By Any Other Name
by deanine
Summary: This fic is a journey of self discovery, despair, hope, and finding your way home again...Vegeta makes a wish that changes everything for Gohan.
1. Prelude

** PART I - On Earth **

Son Gohan - Scholar - Dreamer - Child 

__

Do you believe that you are who are from the day you're born? Do you think that your life won't change you, at least not fundamentally? I've had a chance to study the difference a life makes. Are you curious? 

**  
**

Prelude 

Vegeta, Saijen prince and newly christened warrior of the Earth, circled and punched in the insanely multiplied gravity of his training chamber. It was all wrong. Saijens didn't save worlds. They didn't settle down and raise half-breed children. There was a time when Vegeta would have blasted the Earth to bits himself, just for laughs. What had happened to him? What would his father say? 

Vegeta screamed his frustration and redoubled his training efforts. Everything should have been different. If the Saijen home world had survived, he'd still be the man he was meant to be. If wishes... The derogatory comment hed been about to make about dreamers and wishes died on his lips. In this world, if you knew the way, wishes were real. 

* * *

Gohan tapped his pencil idly against his algebra book on the kitchen table and watched his mom. She was bustling around the kitchen cleaning and humming. There hadn't been any crying since the first day after Dad had died. It was obvious she was hurting, but she refused to show it. Instead she kept everything the same, her rituals and now his. She monitored his studying like she'd always done before he'd been whisked off to train. He'd expected a fight the first day he'd told her he was going out to run and train for a while first thing, before algebra or English. She hadn't told him he was wasting his energy, instead she'd just told him when breakfast would be ready. But she wasn't supposed to give in like that. Dad was supposed to make her laugh or kiss her, and then she'd give in. 

Everything was different, and Gohan hated it. But it didn't matter how hard he wished his father were back, nothing, not even the eternal dragon would ever change things, not this time. 

"Are you studying? It doesn't look like your studying. Where's your work? Show it to me," Chichi said. She took Gohan's notebook and opened her mouth to continue scolding him, but the doodle covering the page stopped her. It wasn't terribly good, but his subject was clear, spiky hair and a huge grin. It was her Goku. "Why don't you go out and get some fresh air. Then I want you to go over this chapter properly." Chichi just managed to maintain her composure until her oldest boy was out the door, then she sank down into a kitchen chair and bit her fist to keep from screaming. Tears streamed down her face and her whole body shook with sobs. 

He was gone. Her Goku was never coming back. He'd never see his baby boy or make her a baby girl. It wasn't fair. She fought every day to keep her face and mind clear for Gohan's sake, but she just wanted to cry all the time. Her Goku had left her alone. She had to raise their boys. She had to support them and scold them and teach them how to be, how to live. Goku wasn't going to be there to tell her she was coddling them, to tell her to let them fly and not hold them back. And he wouldn't be there to protect them if anything else ever threatened their world. 

"Sometimes I wish I never met you, Goku, Chichi whispered. Sometimes it hurts too much." Her baby, Goten, chose that moment to scream from the bedroom. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and made her way to the crib. Hush now, Chichi whispered. She lifted her baby onto her shoulder and checked his nappy. 

A bottle of milk, some gentle rocking, cuddling and then Goten was back asleep in his bed. He was a perfect angel. Tiny wisps of black hair were already coming in and his eyes were still baby blue. Chichi looked heavenward. "If you're listening, I take it back. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. When I forget, our babies remind me. I just wish you were here." 

* * *

Vegeta dialed down the extra gravity of his training chamber and headed out into the sun. He had originally come to the Earth for her Dragonballs. He hadn't even considered then what he was considering now. He could, with one wish, restore the Saijen home world, as if nothing had happened. He could turn back the clock and return the universe to its natural order, one act to save his soul from the tranquility which every moment threatened to further taint his warrior's spirit. First though, he'd need the Dragonballs and for those, Dragonball radar. He headed for the Capsule Corps R & D building. 

Bulma's lab was a cluttered place. Gadgets and gizmos were stuffed into every corner, hanging on the wall, stacked on shelves. One of those mechanized toys was a Dragonball radar, and Vegeta was supremely confident that an advanced alien life form like himself would be able to find it. 

Two hours and 123 gizmos later, Vegeta was beginning to take his frustration out on the unresponsive devices. He threw a box resembling a toaster over at the chemical hood and smiled at the impressive crash it made. 

"Hey, how am I supposed to cook mini-pizzas without that?" Bulma asked. She was standing in the door with a damningly innocent inquisitive look. "If you needed something you should have asked." Vegeta just stared at her. "You can still ask." 

"There is no need." Vegeta spotted the device he had been searching for and scooped it off the ground. 

Bulma watched Vegeta exit through the back with something he'd scooped out of a pile. Her lab was a wreck. Nothing was in the pile it was supposed to be in and her toaster oven was quite dead. It could take days to figure out exactly what Vegeta had taken, but she didn't much care at that moment. 

The man was impossible. He hadn't even held his son or laid a finger on her since the conception of said son. She knew he cared. He showed it sometimes in the way he'd stand close or not-quite-smile. But the rest of the time, it was as if he hated them, as if he hated caring enough to almost smile at his son or her. 

Bulma kicked at her toaster oven. Well, sometimes she hated him too: his temper, his attitude, the fact that he wouldn't touch his son. Sometimes she hated him almost as much as she loved him. 

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER 

Vegeta stood in the parched sand of the wilderness, bathed in the red twilight between day and night. Seven tiny Dragonballs lay in the sand at his feet, glowing faintly with unused potential, with magic. 

Assembling the Dragonballs had been almost effortless for Vegeta. The Dragonball Radar told him where to go and he went, occasionally pausing to hunt and eat or rest. Vegeta didn't allow himself to ponder all the consequences of the action he was flying toward. There were only the Dragonballs and his quest to save his mind and soul from the infection which plagued him, to save himself from the weak emotions that if he let them, would urge him to turn back, to go home to Bulma and Trunks and just be happy. 

It wasn't until Vegeta stared into the smoldering red eyes of the eternal dragon, that those emotions finally made themselves heard over the roar of his brand of insanity. He was going to give up a life and a family, happiness, for his brutal past. Vegeta hesitated for only a moment. "I wish that the Saijen home-world had never been destroyed." 

The dragon coiled and bobbed its massive head. "Done." 

Vegeta reveled in his victory and tried to ignore the now-tiny voice inside him shouting that he'd destroyed his son that Trunks would never be born. The voice keened that he had given up his life, a life that was making him happy and contented. Vegeta proved with his wish that his pride and perfidity could conquer the new emotions threatening to take over his soul. He didn't get the chance to regret his actions. 

Everything changed. 

Well almost everything... 

Goku dug his fingers down into the turf of the little patch of the afterlife he was currently reclining on. Training, eating, and relaxing, being dead was like living, minus his friends and family. It was a little lonely, being dead. Ever the optimist, Goku just tried to remember that eventually everyone ended up dead and he'd be able to visit with all his friends again someday. The clouds above cleared revealing the brightest view of stars, he'd ever seen. Being in heaven had its perks. 

Not even the whisper of a sound betrayed what happened next. The stars vanished. One moment they were there, the next, the sky was black and empty. Goku blinked and cocked his head to the side. "What the heck would cause that?" If it weren't for the slight glow of his halo, he would have been in complete darkness. His eyes adjusted quickly, but he could barely see his hands in front of his face. A gradually intensifying scream was approaching from the right and Goku sprang toward it. 

"THE END OF THE UNIVERSE!!! THE END!!!!" 

A glowing halo much lower to the ground than Goku's was rapidly moving in circles, and appeared to be shouting the news about the end of the universe. "King Kai?" Goku carefully interposed himself into the path of the halo and intercepted a very distraught dead Kai. 

King Kai grabbed him by his shirtfront and shook for all he was worth. "A... A... A... billion stars just vanished died... A BILLION." 

"They died? What could kill a billion stars?" 

King Kai went limp. "I don't know. How could this... How could it have happened?" 

* * *

** Author's Note: **

Yes, that wish is beyond the power of the Dragonballs. It's an AU. 


	2. Arrivals Redux

****

Chapter 1 Arrivals Redux

  
  


_ Seven Years earlier. _

Three perfect spherical space pods exited the cold blackness of space and made a fiery entrance into Earth's atmosphere. They landed somewhat roughly in a rural field, far from signs of civilization. Each pod opened expelling a being, two men and a woman. They were dressed all in black from head to foot, the only splash of color, a single rose tinted eyepiece. Their spiky black hair was kept efficiently short. 

The two men deferred to the woman and followed her out of the crater their landing had caused. They moved without sound. Obeying commands from the woman given by hand signals, they systematically combed the area for signs of life. 

Gradually, they returned to the landing site. One of them didn't come back empty handed. The tallest man presented a human's severed head to the woman. 

"The area is clear then?" the woman asked. Her men nodded. "I give you leave to speak." She took the head from the tall man. 

"Commander Turnitz, this means Kakarrot failed, doesn't it," the tall man said. He began licking the blood off his fingers. 

The woman hefted the head and gazed into its empty dead eyes. "It would appear so. If he's alive, we must find him a get a report. Standard grid pattern, watch for an energy spike," Turnitz said. She indicated the taller man. "Cavige, you take right quadrant. Squax, take the left. No more speaking until I give the order. No killing without permission, avoid all unnecessary contact with native life forms. Remember, you're Saijen scouts. Don't be heroes. That's a warrior's job." 

* * *

Goku cradled his young son Gohan against his shoulder and leaned into the wind sliding past his face. The flying nimbus was a smooth ride, and Gohan was tuckered out enough to sleep through a trip that would normally have him squealing with delight. The reunion had been great. Bulma and Krillin had been so different, but the same in all the ways that really mattered, and Master Roshi, he was never going to change. "Smell that Gohan? Wake up. We're home." 

Gohan's nose twitched and he grinned. "Mommy's sweet meatballs." 

Unseen or sensed by Goku, a form moved in the shadows just out of sight. Cavige tapped his wrist comm., quietly reporting his find. Almost immediately the wrist comm. vibrated its reply and he headed back for the landing site. 

Commander Turnitz and Squax were waiting for him at their pods. "You found our Saijen warrior, did you?" Turnitz said. Her left eye twitched. "Was he wounded? Did you see any obvious excuse for his absolute failure here?" 

Cavige rolled his eyes and spat in disgust. "He's gone native. No tail, and he had what had to be a half-breed kid." 

Turnizt's lip drew back in disgust. "I always hate to get news like that. Anything interesting to report, Squax?" 

The other Saijen nodded. "There was a powerful alien, Namek I think. He sensed me, but he never got a good look. Nothing that should have interfered with Kakarrot's mission." 

"We'll play this by the book then. I'll approach Kakarot in a non-threatening manner. If his failure isn't treasonous, I'll invite him to return to active duty. Those youngsters get knocked upside the head often enough that he may not know who he is," Turnitz said. 

"What if he refuses, commander," Cavige said. There was a dangerous glint to his eyes. 

"If he refuses, you and Squax will round up the little half-breed, and we'll turn this planet over to command for reevaluation." Turnitz approached Cavige and glared menacingly up at him. "We are not warriors and we will not fight a rogue, Saijen. I don't care if he doesn't have his tail." 

"I can't believe we have to bring in the half-breed," Squax complained. "Don't tell me I have to share a pod with it. It probably stinks." 

Turnitz smiled. "It's protocol. Command can always use young fodder for the infantry. It isn't too old is it, Cavige?" 

He shrugged. "It was tiny. Perfect for the stinking half-breed corps." 

* * *

While Chichi slowly dried a massive pile of dishes, Goku patted his stomach and yawned. "That was wonderful." 

Chichi smiled and shrugged. "Flattery won't get you out of trouble. You know you two stayed out too late at Master Roshi's. Gohan will never get his math homework done now. He practically fell asleep at the dinner table." 

Goku moved over to the sink with an amorous look on his face and enfolded Chichi in his arms. "How can I ever make it up to you?" 

Chichi blushed and leaned into his embrace instinctively. "Gohan might not be asleep yet." 

"You said he was practically unconscious at the dinner table," Goku whispered in her ear. Chichi tried not to laugh when Goku nuzzled and tickled her neck. "At least let me finish putting away my dishes." 

* * *

Turnitz adjusted her headset and gently urged her power level up. It would be best if Kagarrot sensed her approach. Startling or otherwise provoking warriors wasn't a good idea. Fighting wasn't a scout's job. 

Most Saijens would be shamed by the scout designation, but Turnitz was a rare breed among her kind. She didn't care. Like most scouts, she was bright. Scouts had to be smarter than the average Saijen. If you couldn't blast through every enemy hacking and slashing, you were clever or you died. Turnitz had seen what it was to be an insane-powerful-moron and she was happy to be an intelligent if unnotable nobody. 

The front door on the little dome shaped dwelling flew open and an average sized Saijen stepped out. Turnitz dialed her energy down a notch, no need for him to feel the need to prove he was stronger. Warriors could be tricky. You come across as too powerful and they have to fight you out of pride, too weak and they either ignore you or squash you for the Hell of it. 

"Kakarrot," Turnitz called. She walked quietly and slowly out of the shadows. "I am here to take your report. Why have you not completed your mission?" 

Goku stared, puzzled, at the odd woman advancing on his home. Kakarrot? Mission? "I'm afraid you must have the wrong guy. My name is Goku and I don't have a mission. Can we help you?" 

Chichi poked her head around Goku's shoulder. "We never have visitors all the way out here. Is it a friend of yours?" 

Goku shrugged. "I'm not sure who it is, but she seems a little strong. Maybe you should stay inside, just until we all decide to be friends." Chichi glared at Goku but withdrew, unhappy with being dismissed but confident in her husband's ability to handle anything. 

"I am not here to fight, Kakarrot." Turnitz swished her tail around so he would see it. "I am one of your people, a Saijen, and I would like you to provide me with a report. What have you been doing for the last twenty-odd years and why is this planet still infested with higher life forms." 

"Infested? Saijens? I don't know what you're talking about," Goku said. He was staring at her tail. He'd never seen another person with a tail. 

Turnitz crossed her arms over her chest and stared coldly at the ignorant warrior in front of her. He obviously didn't have a clue who he was or what he was supposed to be doing. "Look, I'll make this simple. You are a Saijen warrior. We sent you here as a child to clean up this world for sale. You were supposed to destroy all higher life forms. Apparently, you forgot. It's pretty common. You send a tiny child to do a warrior's job, many of them get confused." 

Goku stared, horrified at the cold creature in front of him. He was an alien? He was supposed to destroy all life on Earth, his home? "I don't believe you," Goku said. "I suggest you leave my home and get as far away as you can." She had to be lying...the tail though. 

Turnitz sighed internally. "This is your one chance to reaffiliate with your race. If you pass it up, we'll declare you rogue. Traitors are killed slowly, Kakarrot. You have one Earth-day to decide. My team and myself will be departing, to report back to command after that time. We're a scout team, and we won't be challenging you or your decision, but believe me, the Saijens will not abandon this planet. It is too rich, and there are too many potential buyers." 

Goku watched as the woman melted back into the shadows. He was supposed to destroy all life on Earth? They wanted to sell the Earth? What kind of beings were Saijens? What kind of creature was he? Goku reentered his home and left the door standing wide open. 

Chichi was tapping her foot and had her arms crossed. "Well what did she want?" Goku didn't answer, and he didn't smile. Gradually Chichi's annoyance melted into worry. Goku almost always smiled when she glared at him. "Are you okay? What's going on?" 

Goku's face was unnaturally serious. "Did you ever wonder about me, Chichi? I just showed up in the woods. I had a tail. Did you ever wonder who I am, and where I came from?" 

Chichi shook her head, puzzlement creasing her brow. "Why would you ask me something like that?" He still wasn't smiling. "I know who you are. Why would it matter where you came from? You're a beautiful human being, if a little vacant sometimes." Her gentle ribbing didn't elicit even a glimmer of his usual grin. 

"What if I was supposed to be a killer? What if I come from killers?" Goku whispered. 

Chichi didn't know what to say at first. Goku was scaring her a little. "You're not a killer though. There isn't an evil bone in your body. I don't care what that woman said to you. What did she say?" 

"That woman said I was a Saijen warrior. She said I was supposed to have killed all life on Earth." Goku walked forward, dropped to his knees, and let Chichi enfold him into her arms. "I know who I am. I just never thought about where I came from. How could my race be a bunch of killers?" 

Chichi stroked Goku's head. "Whoever she was, she lied to you. And even if she didn't, it doesn't change who you are." 

Goku squeezed Chichi and breathed her in, spices and soap. "She had a tail like I did, like Gohan does. I don't think she was lying about any of it. It means they're targeting the Earth." 

"Then we'll have to stop them." Chichi framed Gokus face with her hands, and he finally smiled up at her. "We can stop them." 

Goku nodded. "I love you." 

* * *

"Why did we give him a full day to think it over? This planet is a bore. We can't even kill anyone," Cavige said. He was leaning against his pod and glaring at Commander Turnitz. 

Turnitz returned his glare and sighed. Some scouts had the mentality of the warrior class. Cavige wouldn't last long. He had no sense of finesse, when to be silent and cautious. Hopefully, the moron wouldn't take too many good scouts down with him when he screwed up. "Tell you what, Cavige. You're going to be quiet and enjoy the vacation. You want to kill something, knock yourself out on any creatures that come within fifty meters of this pod. Everything else is off limits." Turnitz took a seat next to her second in command, Squax, without turning her back on Cavige. "Anything interesting over here?" 

"Not really, it's quiet, a nice planet, not much like home," Squax said. He was small for a Saijen, not surprising since large Saijens rarely become scouts. "Wonder who we're selling it to?" 

"Does it really matter?" Turnitz smiled sourly. "We'll never see this place again." 

"You know boss, it really wasn't necessary to stay overnight. You left that meeting knowing one way or another what Kakarrot was going to do. I know you. You can read people. Are we hanging out just to piss off Cavige?" 

Turnitz shrugged. "That's just a bonus. Protocol says we wait one day. He, Kakarrot, isn't much of a warrior, you know. He's strong but not crazy like they all are. He might have made an okay scout if he'd been raised right." 

"You like him, don't you?" Squax said. He chuckled low. "You're the piss poorest Saijen I ever met." 

"That's why I'm a scout. All the piss poor Saijens end up here," Turnitz said. She settled in more comfortably and clicked off her transmitter and with it the constant feed to their superiors. Squax followed suit. Some things were not for their command's ears. "I need you to watch Cavige. Don't let him screw up the kid grab. He'll want to start a fight. It's our nature, and he has no self-control. I won't be there to glare him down. Can you handle it?" 

"Stop trying to be my mother. I'm a Saijen. Maybe I'm not the biggest bad ass, but I can take care of that idiot," Squax said. "Permanently if possible." 

"You take care of him permanently, and I'll love you forever," Turnitz said with a snigger. 

Squax chuckled, but the sarcasm had been tinged with a flare of truth. Eliminating Cavige would endear him to his commander and save them a lot hassle down the road. 


	3. In an Instant

**

**

Chapter 2 -- In an Instant 

  
  


Gohan stared down into the big bowl of oatmeal his mom had presented him with. The aroma of cinnamon and fresh butter was steaming into his face and he just breathed it for a long moment. His dad was already finishing his third bowl of oats and would probably keep going for three more. Meanwhile, his mom was stacking his books for the day on the counter. 

Gohan dug his spoon into his breakfast and grumbled to himself. It was Saturday. He shouldn't have to start the day studying. City kids took weekends off from school. He'd read about it. 

"Daddy, can we go fishing today?" Gohan asked, ignoring his mother's pointed look at the high stack of books. "Please daddy?" 

Goku smiled but shook his head. "Daddy has things to take care of today. I want you to stay home with your mom. Promise me you'll stay inside, okay?" 

Gohan sighed and nodded. He'd stay inside, for a little while anyway. 

Chichi motioned for Goku to follow her into the living room. She frowned worriedly toward the kitchen. "What are you going to do about our visitor last night?" 

"Well, I'm going looking for them," Goku said. 

Chichi nodded. "You're going to fight them?" 

"I'm going to tell them to leave. If they won't, then I'll fight them." Goku smiled, full of confidence, or at least trying to project it. 

"Just be careful." 

* * *

Squax signaled for Cavige to stop advancing. The Saijen, Kakarrot, flew past overhead, toward Turnitz's blaring energy signal. "He's taking the bait. Now we shouldn't have any trouble with the little mutt," Squax said not even bothering with the stealth of their vibrating communicators. 

Cavige sighed and stared after Goku belligerently. "You call that untrained tailless nobody a problem?" 

"Yes I do." Squax abandoned his cover and advanced toward the small igloo shaped dwelling. "This can be quick and dirty, just so we're long gone before Mr. Kakarrot reappears." 

A look like ecstasy passed over Cavige's face and he laughed. "I like dirty." 

"Thought you would. Keep the female busy. I'll grab the kid," Squax said. 

* * *

Gohan yawned and turned the page in his math text. Mom was being so unreasonable. He deserved a day off every now and then. Sure, he was supposed to have done the arithmetic he was wading through now the day before, but his dad wanted him to go to the reunion thing. It wasn't fair. And Dad told him not to even go outside and play! Dad always wanted to play. It was a_ conspiracy _to_ eradicate _all fun. Gohan smiled, proud of himself for using two new words from his vocabulary lessons. 

"Mom, can't I go outside? I'll finish all my homework tonight. It's just so pretty out today." Gohan got up and padded over to the door to the living room. "Mom?" 

Chichi was pressed against the wall. A tall Saijen, tail swishing, held her in place with his hand wrapped around her throat. The man laughed, low and deep while Chichi clawed at his arm, unable to scream. 

"MOM!" The world seem to slow down, to stop. Gohan gasped as an energy he'd never felt filled his mind and body. "Stay away from my MOM!" 

Cavige turned slowly. What the Hell was keeping Squax? He should be keeping the kid out of his hair. The energy meter on his face took a reading of the child, and he almost choked, 700? Not even kids with ten generations of warrior behind them registered anywhere near that, ever. And the number was rising. "Damn it Squax, knock out that kid already. He's stronger than you're average mutt. He might bite." 

"I can only hope." Squax tapped over his vibrating wrist communicator, avoiding the transmission back to command. 

Gohan lost himself in the power flowing through him. He wasn't Gohan. He was energy given purposed. "MOOOOOM!!" Gohan flung his tiny body at the Saijen, the attack pure instinct and undisciplined. Fortunately, that was all it took to level the scout. 

Chichi, gasping for each breath and unable to speak, reached out a hand toward her fallen son as she slid slowly down the wall. The black spots swimming behind her eyes gradually filled her view and Chichi fainted. 

Squax stepped over the pile of bodies and extricated Gohan. "A little juice here and you won't be biting anyone else, mutt. At least not till we tell you too." He held back Gohan's eyelid and used a tiny mosquito-tip hypodermic to deliver a sedative. 

The child secured, Squax leaned over his prostrate companion. When he'd joked to his commander that he would like to get rid of their junior Scout, he hadn't thought he'd really get the chance. Despite the rhythmic rise and fall of Cavige's chest, Squax made a show of presenting the lies he wanted the command to have. "Well that's unfortunate. Cavige was killed by the little half-breed. I'll be confiscating his transmitter and reporting back with our new cargo." Squax sometimes wondered whether anyone with the command really listened to all the transmissions feeding out from the Saijens in the galaxy. It was best to cover one's back though. 

Squax couldn't help smiling as he made his way through the woods with the half-breed under his arm. Cavige would soon see how he'd fare against Kakarrot, the warrior he'd shown such contempt for. Their fight would provide plenty of distraction for the commander and his escape. 

* * *

Turnitz nodded perfunctorily as Kakarrot came to earth behind her. "So you have already come to a decision. Will you be cleaning out this planet?" 

"I think you know the answer to that. Get off my planet and don't come back," Goku said. 

Turnitz almost smiled. If she was a piss poor Saijen, this warrior wasn't a Saijen at all, blood and power be damned. "I like you, Kakarrot. So listen to this heads up. You're going to die as will every higher life form on this mud ball. Saijens don't quit, not ever. It will be at least a year before your executioner gets here, so enjoy it. If by some miracle you survive, they'll send another and another, until you fail and die." Turnitz powered up to her highest level. 

Goku frowned. This woman wasn't weak. If they fought, the outcome would be questionable. 

"I am a weakling by Saijen standards, fit only to run recons. Are you sure you're ready to die? By turning your back on your race, you only ensure your demise. It's really a waste. I think you'd make a fine scout, and you could keep your son." Turnitz didn't really expect to be taken up on her offer. It was important that Kakarrot not rush off home immediately though. 

"You leave. I'll be ready for my executioner, every one you send. I'll keep my son, my wife, my friends, and my home. Forgive me if I don't thank you for the offer. If you're not off this planet by the end of the day, we will fight." Goku glared then flew straight up. If this woman was weak by their standards, he'd have to find a way to push himself beyond his current levels. Images of his wife and gentle son floated behind his eyes. He had to defend this world. 

Turnitz shrugged and took flight in a different direction toward the landing site. "Tell me you boys are finished," she said into her comm. "Otherwise you've got company coming and I don't want to be on this rock much longer." 

"Worry not commander. I've got the cargo and we're waiting for you. Cavige isn't here though. He's covering our escape, unexpected casualty." 

Turnitz did a dive and spin in the air while laughing wildly. That sounded suspiciously like slang for, we're leaving Cavige's ass to take the heat. "Well, I never liked that bastard anyway." 

* * *

Goku landed lightly in his front yard and his heart leapt out of his chest. Something was very wrong. That energy, that had to be a Saijen...in his home. "Chichi! Gohan!!" Inside, the Saijen was just regaining his feet, and Chichi...her ki was weak almost nonexistent. Where was Gohan? Was Gohan dead? "What did you do?!" Goku's energy flared. "You tell me what you did!" 

Cavige spat blood on the dove gray carpet and sneered at Goku. "Me? I didn't get around to doing anything. I didn't even get around to killing the female." 

Goku couldn't contain the anger that welled up in him. He grabbed the sniggering Saijen by his shoulder armor and flung him through the front wall, outside, and far away from Chichi. Goku dropped down to hold her. "Chichi? Baby? What happened?" She was limp, like a broken doll. "Chichi?" He had to get help, but first there was a Saijen in his yard that wasn't ever going to hurt another living creature. Goku settled Chichi gently down and kissed her damp forehead. "I'll be right back." 

Outside, Cavige was bushing the underbrush off his black armor and cursing in a language Goku had never heard before. The angry Saijen turned on his attacker and sneered. "Stupid-tailless-weakling-excuse-for-a-Saijen, I'll show you what happens to the weak when they attack their betters." 

"You shouldn't have a attacked my family." Goku discarded his weighted clothing an item at a time. "You should never have come to this world." He took steadying breaths, focusing his energy, preparing to fight. "I'm going to teach you a lesson in regret." 

Cavige attacked first, a headlong assault of fist and feet, which would have leveled any human on the planet. Goku managed to block the flurry of berserker blows, barely. After Cavige had exhausted himself throwing ineffective punches, Goku countered with a lightning flurry of his own, only stopping after the brittle sound of bones crushing heralded Cavige's collapse. 

Cavige was cradling his shattered jaw and staring murderously up at Goku from his knees. "You will die, all of you. I am weak and deserve my fate. You're weak too though, too weak to live, only fit to die. This whole world is going to die." The words emerged garbled and barely comprehensible from his blood red lips. 

Goku would normally never kill an opponent after defeating him. Killing went against his nature, at least that's what he'd always believed. The snarling Saijen in front of him was different than any opponent he'd faced before. This man hurt Chichi and probably Gohan too. In that moment, staring at the killer's bloody sneer, Goku was unable to find mercy in his heart. He focused a Kamehameha wave and blasted the bleeding broken Saijen into oblivion. There was no rush of victory, no pleasure at this killing, just a gut wrenching fear. Chichi was near death; Gohan might already be gone. 

"Chichi?" Goku was back at her side a moment later. Her ki seemed stronger more steady. "God, Chichi, tell me what to do. Did they kill Gohan?" Goku passed the next moments in indecision. He couldn't look for Gohan and get help for Chichi at the same time. A small voice in the back of his mind urged him to search the house so he abandoned Chichi for the moment and did. Room to room, behind the couch, under the bed, in the closet, places Gohan had hidden in the past, Goku rushed, calling his son's name, not even fighting his desperation. He ended up back with Chichi in the living room. He stroked at her pale damp forehead. "I need help." 

Chichi's voice filled his head. "I'll tell you why this phone is important, emergencies. I don't care if we're out of their regular service area, that little town is going to provide our phone service or so help me." 

Goku left Chichi again, this time searching for a little black rotary phone. His hands were almost steady on the dial. "Master Roshi? I need help." 


	4. The Search

****

Chapter 3 The Search 

Krillin flew through the muggy late afternoon air and searched for a glimmer of energy, anything that might betray the location of the fighters, Saijens that had apparently taken Goku's son. It had been strange to see his friend so afraid, so serious. They had split up to search almost immediately: Goku, Ox, Bulma and Master Roshi. He couldn't go back to the hospital without news, something. Chichi might be awake. Someone had to have found something. 

When Krillin finally felt a spike of energy, he almost passed it by, sensing fighting auras had never been his strong suit. Krillin flew for the spark that had attracted him. Face to face with the owner of said energy, disappointment and fear swirled in him. "Of all the luck," Krillin hissed. "Piccolo, hi, nice day, eh?" 

The immense green warrior smirked at Krillin. The diminutive human was grinning and hedging like he'd bitten off more than he wanted to chew by dropping in. "Don't tell me you're alone. Where's Goku? I have a couple of new moves I'd like to test on his face. I'd hate to break them in on you. It hardly seems worth the effort." 

Krillin marshaled his courage. "I don't have time to fight you, and I couldn't beat you if I did." 

Piccolo laughed and shrugged. "Fine, fly away then, while I'm feeling generous." 

Krillin was going to do just that, but he paused. Piccolo was a powerful fighter; he could sense energies. "Some fighters, aliens called Saijens, kidnapped Goku's son. You might have sensed them? I know you're not an ally, but today I'll take help from anybody." 

Piccolo laughed harshly. "Goku had a son, and he misplaced him? That is truly hilarious." 

Krillin shook his head. Hilarious? Why had he even bothered? "Just forget it. I don't know why I thought... I'll get out of your way." 

"What's a Saijen? Are they worth fighting?" Piccolo asked. His question was almost whimsical, tossed at Krillin's retreating back. 

Krillin paused in the air and looked over his shoulder at Piccolo. "Goku is _concerned_, and nothing scares him." 

Goku was concerned? That gave Piccolo pause. Nothing concerned Goku, not even a one on one with Piccolo himself. "Saijens?" 

* * *

The Ox King, a giant with legs like tree trunks and the strength of ten men, moved with speed a man his size should have been incapable of. His movements weren't graceful and with every loping stride the earth shook. Fortunately, stealth wasn't a goal of this journey. With every breath he released an ear-rattling scream. "Gohan!" 

Ox raced with a purpose. His grandson was missing, kidnapped by some strange pack of aliens. His daughter was hurt, and he wasn't going to let her wake up to find out that her baby was gone, stolen by the monsters who attacked her. Chichi deserved better. He was the Ox King; surely he could find his grandbaby. Surely with all his strength and skills he could find one child. 

He had to. 

* * *

Master Roshi walked down the beach. His friend the sea turtle was already swimming the ocean, enlisting the creatures of the sea in their search, a search for a boy, for a needle in a haystack. With a shout into the wind master Roshi summoned a giant albatross. The regal beast glided to the ground. Master Roshi bowed to the creature and offered it a large tuna. "I need your help friend." 

"Yes, Master Roshi, friend, how may the winged beasts aid you?" 

"I'm looking for a boy. He was taken by some powerful warrior aliens. If you could, please search from the skies," Roshi said. 

The albatross bobbed his head. "Warrior aliens and a boy? We will gladly search. I will spread the word." 

Master Roshi watched as the giant bird took flight. Only his beard moved in the wind the albatross stirred. Then, confident that he had done all he could, Master Roshi retreated to his beach house. 

Goku, the little powerful child who wandered into his life over ten years ago, was an alien. He'd been shocked at the revelation for a moment, but in all honesty it explained a lot. For one, it explained the tail, and the unusual strength. It explained the strange stories he had heard from Goku's grandfather. According to Gohan, well the original Gohan, Goku was a violent-angry, you might even say malevolent child, right up until he had an accident and fell on his head. Then he changed; he became the sweet inquisitive child who befriended Bulma and Krillin who trained with Master Roshi. He changed and became a hero. Master Roshi hadn't gotten a chance to tell Goku everything or to fully express his fears about these aliens and his own past. There was a kidnapping to solve, a child to find. 

The new Gohan was the image of his father. He was a little Goku right down to his tail, but he was different too, not as indestructible. Maybe it was his mother's fault? Maybe she coddled him? Or Maybe Gohan was just different? Either way, they had to find him. With so many looking, someone would find him. If there was still someone to find... 

Master Roshi tried not to dwell on his suspicion that these Saijens would have little use for a child like Gohan, that he was probably already gone. It would be sad for a child so young to die, but not completely tragic. There were the Dragonballs. Goku had always had a talent for locating Dragonballs. They'd just have to wish him back. Master Roshi nodded to himself. This was going to work out, one way or another. 

* * *

Bulma clutched the stick of her small two-passenger helicopter and made a slow turn back toward home, toward Orange Star City. The sun was dropping low in the sky, and her fuel meter was dropping below its own horizon. They were supposed to regroup at sunset if no one sent word earlier that they'd found something. She'd given everyone a Capsule Corp. hand-held communicator. Honestly, Bulma had been half-expecting her radio to light up with Krillin's or Goku's or even Master Roshi's voice. They would have a lead of some kind, and then they'd find Gohan. The little radio was stubbornly quiet though. 

It was hard to believe that a gang of aliens would drop in on the Earth and nab Goku's little boy. It didn't make sense. They hadn't made any demands. Just dropped by and told Goku he was a_ Saijen_, whatever that meant, and that he better get with their world-conquering program or he'd be executed. Maybe taking Gohan was a way to punish Goku for telling them to get off his planet? Well they didn't know what they were dealing with by messing with Goku. Bulma was confident that the Saijens were going to regret picking a fight with them. Between her brains and Goku's strength and with their friends, these aliens didn't stand a chance. 

* * *

Goku was the first searcher to make it back to the hospital, but he didn't head straight up to Chichi's room. She might be awake, and he couldn't tell her that Gohan was missing. What was he supposed to say? 

When they started to search, Goku had been so sure that they would find him. He had called his flying nimbus and starting from their home. He had searched in an ever-expanding circle. Goku had used every bit of concentration he possessed to search for the Saijens, their energy, and for the warm glow that was his son. The nimbus traveled with incredible speed and he searched half the world over only to find nothing. They were hiding, dampening their energy and laying low. That had to be the answer, but how was he supposed to find them? 

Goku considered heading in through the front entrance of the hospital, but he could see Chichi's window from the ground. It was open and the curtains were blowing in the breeze. Instead he flew up, peering through the curtains, hoping to see her without her seeing him. The doctors had said she was going to be okay. They said he didn't have to worry, but he still needed to see. A small amount of the tension in his mind eased when he saw her, no longer pale, propped up in bed and frowning at him. It was just like her to be looking out the window when he was trying so diligently to avoid notice. 

"Hi Chichi, you look better. Are you feeling better?" Goku asked. How do I tell her? I can't tell her. It will break her heart. 

Chichi made a brief gesture covering her bruised throat and held up a little dry-erase board. She scribbled a quick note. "Hi there, I'm better. Feel almost human. Think I met a Saijen." After a quick erase she continued. "Is Gohan okay? I don't remember what exactly happened. Who is watching him? Did you leave him with Dad?" 

Goku couldn't look at her. He failed her and Gohan. He lost their son. "Gohan wasn't in the house when I found you. We've been looking. Everyone's been looking, but we haven't found anything. I'm so sorry, Chichi, but we can't find Gohan." 

Chichi stared for a long moment and she made a tiny sound in the back of her throat. She erased her white-board angrily and began writing again, this time with an unsteady hand. "Why aren't you looking? WHY are you HERE?" Chichi threw the marker at Goku, which infuriatingly, he caught before it could strike him. Her baby, her baby was with the psychopaths who attacked her. Chichi knew she shouldn't blame Goku. It wasn't his fault, but she was just so scared. He had to find her baby. 

"I'll find him Chichi. I swear." Goku dropped down to his knees at her bedside, unable to look at her tear-streaked face to face the anger in her eyes. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I should never have left you alone." 

The misdirected anger Chichi had been projecting on Goku shifted to herself, and she chocked back a sob. Her sweet Goku, he never would have left if he thought they were in danger. She shouldn't have blamed him. Chichi reached out her hand and ran it along his face. "Not your fault," she rasped. "My fault. Couldn't protect him." 

Goku finally looked at her and shook his head vehemently. "No, you shouldn't have had to face that. Not alone. It was-is my job to protect you and Gohan." 

Krillin poked his head through the hospital room door just in time to catch Goku's last statement. "Hey, enough with the blame-me game. It isn't either of your faults," Krillin said. He finished pushing his way into the hospital room and propped himself against a wall. "Before you ask, I didn't find anything, except Piccolo, and I don't think he knew anything about what happened." 

Goku nodded and gave Chichi her marker back. "Thanks for your help, Krillin. I'm not sure what to do next." He cut his eyes at Chichi and tried to sound confidant. "I think the Saijens must be masking their auras and hiding somewhere." 

"That's possible. If that's the case, I don't know how we're going to find them. I did see Ox and Bulma in the parking lot on my way up. Maybe they found something, a lead," Krillin said. "You know, I'm sure they found something." 

"Chichi! Angel, you're awake," Ox said. He scrunched down and made his way into the hospital room that had until that moment seemed quite large. "I guess Goku told you that Gohan is missing, but I don't want you to worry. We're going to find him. Master Roshi has a thousand beasts searching and they can see things and find things better than we can." 

Chichi started writing. "Dad, I know you will. I believe it. With you and Goku and everyone on this job, I don't see how you could fail. You'd better not fail." Chichi tried to make herself stop crying. They were going to find her baby. 

Bulma just managed to squeeze past Ox and over to the less crowded side of the hospital room. "Hi guys. I know we didn't have much luck with the straight search today, but we should have used our brains. I had an idea in the parking lot. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't think of it earlier." 

"What?" Goku said. The confidence he'd been feigning for Chichi's sake now filled him in earnest. This was how things were supposed to play out. Bulma would have an idea, and he would come in strong and make things right. 

"Was Gohan wearing his Dragonball hat? If he was, well still is. We can track him," Bulma said. She brandished the Dragonball radar. "Well?" 

Goku looked over at Chichi. Hope filled his heart. Did she see it, how things were finally working out? "He was wearing it at breakfast," Goku said. 

Chichi nodded excitedly. She wrote one word across the entire white-board. "Yes!" Bulma grinned. "We're in business then. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to use this in here, but what the hey." She mashed the on button and started dialing the range up to maximum with the program set to report on moving Dragonballs. "That's it, maximum range. I'm not...wait." The radar blipped once, then after another long pause, blipped again. "It's moving away." 

Goku slapped his hands together. "Give me a location." These Saijens were going to regret touching his son. 

"Wait," Bulma said. She stared at the radar and shook her head. "This can't be right." She fiddled with the readings and shook the radar unit. "According to this, the Dragonball is heading away from the Earth fast. I'm not going to be able to get a reading for much longer." Bulma looked from Goku to Chichi and back. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry. That's a location. I just need a ship," Goku said. "Bulma, do you think Capsule Corp. has a ship that I could use?" 

"Yeah a two-seater, I'm coming too," Krillin said. "I haven't even gotten to see a Saijen yet. You aren't facing this alone Goku." 

Bulma nodded distractedly, still fiddling with the radar. "I can come up with something." 

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," a disembodied voice announced. With a small flash Kammi appeared in the area of floor space left open. "If you leave, who will defend the Earth? The Saijens are coming." 

Surprised looks were exchanged around the room. It wasn't everyday that the Guardian of earth dropped into a private conversation. 

Goku stared at Kammi. "I can't just let Gohan go. He's my son. I won't let him go." 

"If you leave, the Saijens will scour all life from the Earth," Kammi said. "There is no doubt in that prediction. If you leave now, the Earth and all life on it dies." 

Chichi made another low moan. How dare Kammi? How dare Goku not throw him out without listening to another word? "You are not throwing away my son. We have to find a way." Her voice was rough and cracked repeatedly. She started writing with her marker again. "If Goku has to defend the Earth, then we send someone else after Gohan. I'll go." 

"I won't see you face a planet full of Saijens Chichi," Goku said. "There has to be a way to protect the Earth and save Gohan without someone throwing their life away." 

Bulma had made her way over to the window and was dangling half-outside with the Dragonball radar, plotting the faint signal. "I lost it," she said. She stared hard at the Dragonball radar. "There's no way I got enough data to extrapolate a trajectory or a destination. We don't know where they're going people and the universe is sort of a large place to attempt trial and error." A long moment of silence spread out following that bit of revelation. 

Kammi's fear of the Saijens and what would happen to the Earth didn't stop him from feeling a deep empathetic sorrow for Goku and Chichi's loss of a child. At least he wouldn't have to beg Goku not to go. At least it was out of his hands. "There isn't a choice then. They're gone and you don't know where," Kammi said. "I am sorry." 

Chichi growled and wrote a sloppy message. "No, you're not sorry. You're glad there isn't a choice." She threw the board and marker at Kammi and started crying again. The ineffectual violence of the projectile echoed the frustration and sorrow that Chichi was drowning in. "Go away. Everyone just go away." 

Goku looked from Krillin to Ox to Bulma and lastly leveled a long stare at Kammi. "Could you all give us a minute alone?" 

Their son was gone. Little Gohan wasn't coming home, not anytime soon, and there wasn't anything that Goku could do about it. It didn't matter if he was the strongest man on the planet. Nothing mattered but this one thing that he couldn't do. After the last of their friends left, Goku did the only thing he could for Chichi, for himself. He eased himself into her bed and just held her. He let her cry her frustration and anger. He let her cry for their son. Eventually her tears slowed and she fell asleep in his arms. Goku stroked Chichi's hair and whispered a promise that she wouldn't hear. "I swore to you that I'd find him. I don't know when, but I swear, someday I'll bring our son home. I swear it." 

* * *

While Goku tried to comfort Chichi, life continued in the hospital lobby. A desperation drove Kammi. The Saijens were coming, and these people just didn't understand the catastrophe that spelled. "Krillin, I need your help. If the Earth is to stand a chance against the coming onslaught, her defenders must be trained. That number includes you." 

"You want to train me?" Krillin said. It wasn't right for him to feel so proud at a moment like this, when his best friend was losing a child, but Krillin couldn't help himself from a small swell of pride. "I'd be honored." 

Kammi nodded almost distractedly. "Yes, I want to train you, but first I need you to assemble all the Earth's defenders. You know them, Tien, Yamcha, Yashirobe." 

"I can do that," Krillin said. "What do I do when we're assembled?" 

"I will bring you to my lookout, and we will train. Now, I have to make another visitation, happy hunting Krillin," Kammi said. With a wave of his arm, the hospital faded from Kammi's view and he was back on his lookout, high above the world. "Now comes the hard part," Kammi whispered. 

Silently he searched for one being on the face of the Earth, the one being that was never far from his mind - a renegade part of himself. "There you are." Kammi departed his lookout for the second time that day. This time he sought a confrontation with Piccolo. 

"Kammi, to what do I owe the displeasure," Piccolo said without looking away from the horizon. A visit from Kammi was like a trip to the principal's office, it didn't happen unless you'd done something wrong and someone was about to lecture you about it. 

"You should know, there is a danger coming, the Saijens," Kammi said. 

Piccolo laughed long and full-throated. "I keep hearing about these Say-whatevers and honestly, I don't see why everyone's so upset. What have these creatures done to make them so all fired dangerous? Please. I doubt they even end up presenting a challenge to your do-gooder brigade." 

"They will destroy all life on the Earth, and as things stand no one, not Goku, not you, is prepared to fight them," Kammi said. You would think, having a direct spiritual and mental connection that they would have been more in sync, more able to predict each others moves. As it stood, the only consistent connection between them was a direct feed on any physical pain the other felt. Not particularly useful, unless you wanted to keep up with your counterpart's stubbed toes and paper cuts. "I need your help, Piccolo. Will you help save this planet? It is in your own best interest." 

Piccolo didn't like close proximity to Kammi. Maybe the only thing Kammi ever consciously felt from their link was pain, but Piccolo started getting confused about who he was, what he wanted when the old prune showed up. "What do you want from me old man?" 

"I want you train on the lookout. Train with Goku. Help push each other beyond the limits you've defined for yourselves. Become powerful and fight the Saijens." 

"If I did that, IF, You know I'd use everything I learned against you in the end. You'd regret every bit of power I attained with your help," Piccolo said. "You sure you want me onboard?" 

"We must use every resource at our disposal. Neither of us wants this planet destroyed. Together we might stop it." 

Piccolo smirked. "Fine, sign me up. Should be fun. I always liked a good fight." 

* * *

The complex computer in a Saijen space pod though not programmed by a Saijen held virtually all things Saijen. It could teach the Saijen language, Saijen history, rudimentary fighting techniques, all while the occupant slumbered the long years of space travel away. Complicated electrodes stimulated and strengthened muscles, which would otherwise atrophy in the endless sleep of space travel. It was a marvel of technology. 

While the world searched for the little boy, Gohan. Gohan slept inside one of those marvels of technology. At first he slept a dreamless drugged slumber, but that sleep soon gave way to strange dreams, dreams of battle, of men and women with tails who spoke in a language he didn't yet properly understand. Gohan's education as a Saijen began before he ever saw the skies of Vegeta. 

Gohan began to learn skills that would determine his survival when he awoke across the galaxy in a new life. 


	5. Over Head Deep

****

PART 2 - On Vegeta 

Son Gohan - Sack of Meat - Soldier - Saijen 

_ A lot of things happened on Earth, good and bad, beautiful and ugly. I can't tell you the story of Goku and his friends, fighting a never-ending parade of Saijens. I wasn't there, and they aren't here. Sorry, you'll have to make do with half the story. It's all I have. _  
****

Chapter 4 Over Head Deep 

  
  


A year is a long time in a child's life. Teeth go and come, inches are gained, baby fat is lost, and lessons are learned. Gohan awoke after a year in a tiny space pod. His home, mother and father all still felt close. A year hadn't passed for him not in his memory. Where was his mother? He needed his mother. Something bad had almost happened to her. He couldn't quite remember what had been happening. Despite a strong inclination to call out for help, Gohan didn't. He shouldn't call out. Saijens didn't call out for their mothers. Gohan didn't question where this random bit of knowledge came from, didn't question that he was a Saijen. The lessons of his year's slumber had been taught well, but subtly. 

The men who programmed the space pod weren't Saijens but they understood the species well enough. They understood enough to know that behavior would be at least as important as carefully cultivated muscles in ensuring a new arrival's survival and eventual usefulness. 

Gohan didn't know about the precautions taken to ensure his survival. He just knew that he was alone and it was dark and he wasn't supposed to cry out. It was bad to cry out. Saijens did not cry out. Where was his mother? Where was Dad? The thought of his father, calmed him a bit. His dad wouldn't let anything bad happen. His dad was the strongest man on the planet. Now that he wasn't panicking, Gohan started to examine his surroundings. It wasn't completely dark, just really dim. If he squinted, Gohan could just see the outline of a keypad. The symbols on the pad were odd, different than the things he read in his books at home, but he knew them. They were numbers, one to nine with zero. Maybe if he pushed the right numbers, he could get out of the tiny dim place he was in? 

Before he could properly test his theory, the pod began to hiss as air rushed into the lower pressured interior. The front of the pod abruptly popped out and up. Hot acrid air flooded the interior along with bright white light. Gohan was blinded and his ears were popping painfully. He could barely keep his eyes squinted open against the glare. People were talking in a deep guttural language. They made sense, but Gohan wasn't sure he could make the same sounds and he was a little afraid to try. He wanted to ask them about his parents, where they were. He wanted to ask when he could go home. 

"Out!" A hand reached in and pulled him out of the pod roughly. He had felt sluggish in the pod, but now standing on his own two feet he could barely hold himself upright. He was just so heavy. "I'll drop him off on the way to debriefing." 

Gohan blinked owlishly and finally managed to focus on the owner of the voice, which had been commanding him. It was a woman, like his mom, but she didn't look as soft. Instead she was all angles, sharp and angry looking. There was a man standing next to her. He wasn't as tall, but he was all hard and full of angles too. They were standing in sand, red sand. The sand clung to them lightly giving their black clothes a reddish gray appearance. Everything was hot and glaring. The sky didn't seem to have any color, just bright white. This had to be what a desert felt like. He'd read about them, hot and dry with lots of sand. This had to be a desert. 

Gohan marshaled all his courage to attempt a question. "Where are we?" The words didn't sound quite like he had meant for them to, but he thought he'd said it like they would. The two hard people didn't even look at him. This time a little louder and with better pronunciation Gohan tried again. "Where are we?" 

The man walked away without bothering to even look at him, and the woman stayed behind. "You're on Vegeta," the woman said. "Can you fly?" 

"No, I can't," Gohan said. "Where is..." The woman slapped him hard across the face. 

"You don't ask questions of Saijens. You are a half-breed, child to a traitor. We'll try to make something useful of you, but it's doubtful you'll survive. Keep asking questions and I can guarantee, your life will be short." The woman grabbed the back of Gohan's shirt and lifted him until they were face to face. "You are mine until we get to the base. Don't cause me any trouble. We will have a nice uneventful trip, yes?" 

Gohan nodded even though large parts of the woman's declaration didn't make good sense. He might have cried except for the voice in the back of his head insisting that crying would be very bad, worse than calling out. This lady was going to be sorry when his dad showed up. Gohan smiled a little at that thought. His dad would probably be showing up any minute. 

Without waiting for any affirmation, the woman hiked Gohan under her arm like a sack of potatoes and flew straight up. Between the gravity and the forces their speed was inflicting, spots began to swim behind Gohan's eyes. Squeezing his eyes shut, Gohan tried to just breathe, just breathe and not think about where he was. He'd flown before with his dad. That had been different, safe. Where was his dad? Instead of panicking, Gohan tried to focus on something, like geography. Where was Vegeta? There were seven continents: Asia, Africa, North America... definitely no continents that started with a V. It had to be a country, probably in the Middle East or something. There were lots of big deserts in the Middle East. 

Gohan managed to distract himself enough that he didn't notice at first when they finally started their descent. Cautiously, he cracked his eyes open. There was more red sand and a city. It was full of reflective surfaces, silver, chrome. It was blinding, like staring at the sun. The buildings arced up in graceful rows, the cylindrical columns stretching toward the sky. And in the sky...two suns. There couldn't be two suns, not even in the Middle East. There was only one sun, the sun. Gohan almost asked where he was again, but his cheek was still stinging from the last question he tried. 

"Pay attention." Whether the hard woman took pity on him or just felt like talking, Gohan couldn't tell, but he listened and tried to understand. "You are a Saijen. Your father is a Saijen, a traitor to his people. We brought you home, the planet Vegeta." The hard woman turned and took Gohan by the hand. Roughly she half-dragged him along down a narrow street coursing through the city. "This city is Veoten. It is your new home. Do what you're told. Maybe you'll survive." 

Gohan let the woman drag him along. A different planet, he couldn't be on another planet. How long did he sleep? How was his dad supposed to find him? And his mom, she was going to be so mad. He was already behind with studying. Gohan had a million questions, but he was too afraid to ask them. Why was his dad a traitor? Why did they take him away from his home? "Are you mad at my dad?" Gohan wished he could take the question back the moment it slipped out. But this time the woman didn't respond with an immediate backhand. 

"I don't know your father, but as a traitor he is worthy only of death. You need to realize that he is dead by now. His execution should have been carried out days ago," she said. "Any fantasies you're harboring about your dear dad, riding in and bringing you home, need to die here if you plan to survive." 

Gohan tried to pull his hand out of the hard woman's hand, but it was like trying to escape from a steel vise. His dad was not dead. They couldn't kill him. Nobody was strong enough to kill his dad. "Liar," Gohan whispered. "You are a liar." 

The woman didn't flinch or react to his accusation. "Watch your tongue." With a slow calculated move, she slapped him across the same jaw. This time it felt one hundred times worse than the last. Gohan couldn't help himself. He started to cry. It felt like his face was going to explode. "Crying will only bring more suffering on your head." She struck him once more. "Be silent and take your blows." Gohan's vision doubled and he just wanted to scream for his mother. Instead he bit down hard on his tongue and tried not to cry. "Until you're assigned to a regular army, you are technically accountable to me as your founding Commander. If you need to be disciplined, it will be me who does it. Remember that and try your best to do what you're told. My name is Commander Turnitz. Can you remember it?" Gohan nodded slowly, conscious of a ringing in his ears and trying to focus. "What is your commander's name?" 

Gohan stared for a long moment. "Turnitz." 

"Incorrect. Commander Turnitz," she barked. 

"Commander Turnitz," Gohan said a bit more forcefully. 

"Good enough." Without another word, Turnitz shoved Gohan forward toward one of the shiny buildings. Like a dilating iris, a circular opening expanded from the glaring exterior. Gohan stared at the black hole, unwilling to step inside, even if it was out of the horrible heat and light. Not happy with his lack of progress, Turnitz snatched him by the shirt-back again and tossed him forward into the hole. 

For the second time that day, Gohan found himself in a strange place and totally blind. He wouldn't have believed it possible earlier, but he was more afraid now. The complete confidence he had in his father was shaken. Maybe Dad wasn't coming, and maybe he was going to have to stay here? "I wanna go home," Gohan whispered in English. "I want my mom." 

Someone grabbed him by the neck and lifted him to his feet. "Speak Saijen or don't speak." The new man released Gohan after another moment. "What is this?" Assuming the question wasn't directed at him, Gohan tried to catch his breath. This place was just wrong. He couldn't move here. Every step was like swimming in syrup and people kept hitting him. Gohan wanted to cry, but they'd just hit him again. He had to take his blows like Turnitz said, or the blows would just keep coming. 

"This is a new hybrid. Father went renegade. If he's promising, there should still be plenty of the females from his cross. Just make the evaluation as soon as possible. I expect the planet will be purged soon," Turnitz said. "You need anything else from me?" 

"No ma'am," the new man said. "His designation is currently Diasheru in case you require it during your debriefing." 

As Gohan's eyes adjusted to the new muted lighting, he tried to figure out what kind of place he was in. Not surprisingly the first thing that caught his attention was the guy who had manhandled him. He was tall at least seven feet, with huge arms and legs. He reminded Gohan of his grandpa, except Grandpa was always smiling. Suddenly Gohan hoped that Turnitz wasn't leaving him with this person. She wasn't very nice, but this guy probably squashed kids like Gohan for fun. 

Beyond its occupants the room was almost completely empty, the only light, a dim blue shimmer from within the walls. After the painful light outside, Gohan had expected a more glaring lighting inside. Without a word or a backward glance, Turnitz exited the way she came in. Gohan took an involuntary step toward the already closing iris. 

"Did you hear your designation? Diasheru. Understand?" the man said. He snatched Gohan by his shirt-back and walked toward another wall. Some invisible sensor caused the wall to dilate and the man half-tossed Gohan through. "Change your clothes." 

Gohan turned just in time to see the door finish constricting shut behind him. Change clothes? Gohan yanked nervously at the sleeves on his shirt. They were at least two inches too short. "I must have slept a long time," Gohan said. He used the Saijen words on purpose trying to hear them and get better at saying them. The room was long and very full of clothes, mostly green jumpsuits. There were a few of different colors, some black and an occasional blue. Another bit of knowledge from his slumber intruded on his selection. "Green for half-breeds, black for scouts, and blue or yellow for real warrior Saijens," he whispered. How could I know that? Gohan felt a pounding in his head. How come he understood their language too? "Maybe it's cause I'm a Saijen? Maybe I always knew it?" 

A crash next door brought Gohan up short. It would probably be a good idea to get changed before the big guy came back. "Green." Gohan thumbed through one of the racks, which seemed to have smaller jumpsuits. 

After finding one that looked like it might fit, Gohan started skinning his shirt off. With a small clatter his Dragonball hat hit the floor. "I forgot you." Gohan discarded his shirt and plopped down in front of his hat. "My Dragonball." The familiar hat brought his homesickness into sharp focus. Mom had made the hat so Gohan wouldn't lose the precious Dragonball, but it had been his dad's idea to collect them. He wasn't going to be able to finish collecting them though. "Nobody will get to collect them all now that this one's with me," Gohan whispered. "I want a wish today, a real wish. I'd wish to go home." Another crash next door brought Gohan abruptly back to the task at hand. He didn't particularly want to know what would happen if he weren't ready when the big man came back. Gohan finished changing into his new jumpsuit, not a great fit, but it didn't quite drag the floor. He only had to try a couple of pair of boots before he found some that fit. 

Gohan considered returning his hat to his head, but instead he twisted the Dragonball until the glue holding it in place gave way. Patting his jumpsuit until he found a large pocket, Gohan stashed his treasure. He could still protect his Dragonball. His mom and dad were coming for him, whatever Turnitz seemed to think, and they would want him to keep it safe. 

"Ready?" 

Gohan jumped. He hadn't heard the door reopen. "Yes sir." He tried to be as polite as he could. Gohan could remember the big man's hands around his throat and he didn't want to give the giant a reason to hurt him. There was scarcely a pause before the man had him by the arm and began striding away. Gohan found himself running to keep up with the incredible pace of his keeper. Fighting the gravity and running wasn't easy. Gohan could hear his heart pumping, and his legs were aching after scarcely a minute. 

"We're here," the man said. Gohan nodded too winded to try speaking. "See the number 31454 D." The large man pointed to a little placard on the wall. "This is your door." Gohan walked forward slowly and peered through the opening iris. The room was huge, and with the dim lighting, he couldn't even see the opposite wall. There were other kids, at least a hundred, probably more. "Pay attention to them, they've been here longer and they know how to behave." The man pulled a simple chrome gun from his pocket and placed the muzzle into Gohan's back. He pulled the trigger and the instrument hissed. Gohan felt an irritating itching and pressure, then he was being pushed forward two steps over the threshold. The door constricted shut behind him. 

Gohan didn't know what to do. These kids were little versions of the people who'd been pushing and dragging him all day. They were smaller but almost none of them were as small as him. Most of them didn't bother to look at him and those who did, sneered in a confrontational parody of a grin. 

I want to go home. This time Gohan didn't say anything aloud. He found a wall to lean against and did his best not to cry. Pain shot through his back, and he tried to reach around to the spot the giant had injected. It felt hard and hot. No tears. These children wouldn't understand tears. Saijens didn't cry. Instead he let his hand stray to the Dragonball bulging out his pocket. Dad is coming to save me. He'll be here any minute. 

Tired from his run and from fighting the intense gravity Gohan let himself slide down the wall until he was seated cross-legged. He shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the hostile children, and he tried to stop the trickle of tears that were sliding down his cheeks. He had to stop, before anyone saw. Saijens did not cry. 


	6. Aush

**

**

Chapter 5 Aush 

  
  


Aush was small for a Saijen of his age. His hair was flat and fine - not spiky at all, and instead of the normal shades of brown every other Saijen sported, Aush's skin was a murky purple. He looked wrong, not Saijen, and the others wanted nothing to do with him, except to pound his face occasionally. If his failings had been limited to his cosmetic disappointments, Aush might not have felt enough desperation to consider what was running through his mind. It wasn't like he was the first half-breed to favor his mother strongly. Aush was desperate though. He hadn't inherited his Saijen father's strength any more than he'd inherited his complexion and soon strength would matter. 

When the overseer tossed in the new kid, no one really took a great deal of notice, except for Aush. After all, the new kid was little, not even born on planet by the look of things. What Aush had missed inheriting in the way of power and looks, he made up for a little with intelligence and sensitivity. He knew the moment he saw him, felt him, that the new boy was powerful. He was power waiting to be tamed. The boy could be very useful, if he were usable. Odds were he was just another Saijen and any attempt to approach him would just get Aush creamed. With the amount of experience Aush had being creamed by his peers, another round didn't excite him. 

So cautiously, Aush made his way across the room. He was careful to avoid the boys he knew were easily offended and he tried not to be obvious about his destination. Then from a safe distance, Aush studied his mark. Little, probably not used to the gravity from the slump to his shoulders, otherwise he was a perfect replica of what a Saijen was supposed to look like. Aush didn't hate him for that good fortune, but he did envy him a bit. When the new boy looked up and uncovered his face, Aush almost gasped and brought attention to what he saw. The boy was crying. "Not just any Saijen then," Aush said under his breath. "Perfect." Briefly, Aush considered pitying the boy he was about to use, very briefly. Survival was a powerful motivator. 

Gohan finally managed to get a hold on his emotions and stop crying. He had to be strong until his parents could find him. Thankfully, the crowd of boys still seemed to be completely ignoring him. They seemed to have missed his descent into tears. 

"Hello." 

Gohan jumped and looked up at the owner of the voice, which had addressed him. "Hi," Gohan said. He didn't meet the boy's eyes, hardly even looked at him. Silently, he wished that the boy would just walk away, just leave him alone. But he didn't walk away. Instead he took a seat against the wall next to Gohan. 

"I'm Aush. You aren't from Vegeta are you?" 

Gohan was a little afraid to answer. Whatever this kid was trying, he couldn't just be wandering up and trying to be friends. He had learned enough about how Saijens worked that it just didn't seem very likely. "No, I'm not. My dad is supposed to be a Saijen though." Gohan thought of his dad and part of him couldn't believe it. His dad wasn't mean enough to be a Saijen. 

"He's a Saijen, or you wouldn't be here. My dad's a Saijen too," Aush said. "Unfortunately, I took after my mom." 

Gohan turned and really looked at this kid, Aush. He had odd yellow eyes and violet skin. His hair was almost white, and it hung limp to his shoulders. Gohan had never seen anyone who looked like Aush. "You're mom isn't a Saijen then, but you were born here? I thought all the kids here would be Saijens through and through." 

"You notice everyone here's wearing green," Aush said. "Do you know what that means?" 

"I know. It's because they're half-breeds, but I don't know why I know," Gohan said. "I know a lot of things that I didn't know, a lot of things I don't remember learning." His fear of Aush was fading fast. He needed a friend and Aush was acting human. 

"I don't have any idea how long you were in transit in the space pod, but those things teach you things while you're asleep, like languages," Aush said. He grinned. "That's how the stupid warriors learn anything." 

Now that the foreign knowledge made sense it wasn't as scary. Gohan seized on Aush's last statement anxious to hear anything about Saijen weakness. "The warriors are stupid?" Gohan frowned and turned so that he was facing Aush properly. "Why don't they get defeated if they're not smart?" 

Aush laugh quietly, and scanned the other boys nervously. Laughing could be dangerous. It attracted the wrong kind of attention. "They win because they're too strong to fall. Besides, they let other species do the thinking." 

"They all seem so proud of who they are. Why do they keep us around? We're not even totally Saijen? I don't get it." 

"You really think a Saijen woman has the time or the inclination to have kids, well enough kids to keep them in warm bodies anyway? I don't think so. I have yet to meet a maternal Saijen woman. I came from the stock of brood mares they collect from the planets they clean up for sale." 

"Oh," Gohan said._ Brood mare? _It took a moment to place that word. "I'm sorry if they hurt your mom." Gohan wasn't sure what else to say to his new friend. Scaring or offending Aush would be disastrous. He needed this friend. "Thanks for talking to me." Immediately, Gohan regretted the words. They were weak and desperate. Saijens didn't like weak or desperate in his limited experience. 

Aush smiled nervously and cut his eyes toward the pack of boys milling around. "It's nothing. No one here wants to know me, just figured you might be an exception coming from off-planet and all. So, are you going to tell me your name or what?" 

Aush didn't care if he was totally lost and desperate? Gohan almost cried again, but managed to suppress the impulse. "Sorry, I guess I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Gohan." 

"Not much of a fighting name. Someone will come up with something better, I'm sure. Well if you make it anyway," Aush said. 

"I have to fight? Who? Why?" Gohan said. The first image that came to his mind was that of the giant who brought him to the barracks. He shuddered internally at the thought of fighting anything that big. "I don't even know how to fight. I'm just a kid." 

"Wrong, you're a Saijen kid, a strong one unless I miss my guess completely." Aush felt a twinge in his chest, not jealousy. It was NOT jealousy. His mother had always told him to embrace his gifts, they weren't the same as his siblings, but they were a type of power too. "You're not like me. You're here because you're from off-planet. I'm here because my father decided I was too weak to be anything, not even a scout. Diasheru is the end of the line for half-breeds. If I can't survive at this, they've cut their losses." 

Gohan had a sick feeling in his stomach. Surviving Diasheru? What were they going to do to them? "Your dad sent you here. What's going to happen? Your dad wouldn't let anyone hurt you, right? Dads don't let bad things happen." Gohan said. 

It was all Aush could do to keep from smiling. This was going well, incredibly well. Fear was a powerful tool. If wielded properly, fear could make friends of strangers, it could warp the truth, or even control the mind. This boy, Gohan, was very afraid. "We're an army, an infantry. We don't train unless you count the fights that happen amongst ourselves. We may be only half Saijen but we do know how to fight. If you survive three wars with a real enemy then you're a real Saijen. Well as real as a half-breed gets." 

Gohan had a hard time conceptualizing what a war would be like. He knew it was a fight between a lot of people, and he was relatively sure he didn't want to participate in one. Well, his dad would just have to come along before anything like that could happen. Gohan nodded to himself. Mom and Dad wouldn't let him stay here for long. "I don't want to be a Saijen. I wanna go home." Aush didn't respond to that assertion. "My dad is going to come for me, you know. He'll be here before any fighting happens." 

"Right, well just in case, you might want to be ready to fight. Apparently, I'm wasting my time." Aush followed his instincts and stopped pushing his friendship at Gohan. A well-timed retreat was at least as effective as a powerful offense. 

Gohan didn't know what to say. Aush just got up and walked away. Was he being stupid? How did he know that his dad was coming? Why did he tell Aush that? Turnitz said his dad was executed, dead and gone. She had to be wrong, but even assuming she was wrong, how was his dad supposed to find him? He was on a different planet. Gohan let his hand stray to his pocket and his Dragonball. "I need a friend," Gohan whispered. 

"Hey new kid." Gohan looked up slowly. This time it wasn't Aush who had taken an interest in him. "You might want to speak when you're spoken to, kid." 

"What do you want?" Gohan asked. He didn't meet this kid's eyes. He was big, at least twice as tall as Gohan. He had longish spiky black hair and two jagged black lines carved in his neck. And he wasn't alone. All the boys with him had at least one line carved in their neck. Some even had two like the tall one. "I don't want to start any trouble." 

For some reason, that statement incited amusement in the largish group of boys. "No, I want to start the trouble. You just get to come along for the ride. My name is Deacon. You should always know the name of the man who's pounding your face, yes." A couple of the boys nodded others sniggered. "Let us welcome you to Diasheru." 

Two of the boys grabbed Gohan by the arms and pulled him to his feet. Deacon grinned and punched Gohan hard in the stomach, once, twice, and again. "See we'll make you strong if you let us." 

Gohan couldn't seem to pull in any breath. His stomach felt like it was going to collapse and fall out of his body. Just take the licks, take 'em and be quiet. They'll get bored if you don't entertain them. 

"Deacon, I found something," one of the boys holding Gohan said. Gohan started to struggle when he felt a hand go into his pocket, his pocket with the Dragonball. They couldn't have that. Hitting him was one thing, but his Dragonball was important. He had to protect it. "It's a toy. He brought a toy," the boy said. 

"Did the baby bring a toy?" Deacon said. "Well, I could use a toy. Toss it." 

Gohan watched his Dragonball sail across the short distance to Deacon and a rage began to build in him. The small insults that had been accumulating since his awakening, the violence and the cruelty, combined with the theft of his Dragonball were too much. The last bit of his home, his mom and dad was bound up in that little ball. Then something about the attitude of these boys triggered a memory. Gohan could remember his mom pushed against their kitchen wall half-choked, scared and silent. The memory fueled the rage building in him. The feeling of the gravity pulling him down faded as a wealth of energy with a will of its own flooded into his limbs. The energy seemed to seep into his brain making it hard to think, hard to do anything but hate. How dare they touch anything of his? "Give it back." 

Aush watched the boys taunting Gohan critically. They were stupid not to realize they were playing with fire, stupid to assume because they were older and bigger they were stronger, to assume because they had fought that they were superior fighters. At first it seemed that Gohan would let them do their damage without protest, but then they did or said something that sparked the power in Gohan. Aush couldn't see what happened what forced the change. He was too short and the pack of boys were too tall, but he could feel the energy that was about to make the older half-breeds wish they'd avoided the new boy. Aush couldn't quite decide if this was a good or bad development. 

Deacon felt the sudden rush of a powerful fighting aura and immediately started taking the little half-breed more seriously. If there had been a way to end the confrontation right then without losing face in front of the entire group, Deacon might have taken it. The two marks on his neck commemorated two successful campaigns, two successful wars. One more and he was out, well out of Diasheru anyway. Deacon was not a fool and he knew a thing or two about survival. "Hellfire and damnation," he whispered. The kid's energy was not waning or leveling. 

Deacon wasn't the only one who noticed the turn of fortunes. He watched silently as his brave allies faded into the background, taking note of those who fled first and farthest. When he won this battle, they would be sorry for running so quickly, for doubting him. Deacon held up the stupid little orange ball he'd stolen. "You want this? We don't play with toys here. Sorry." 

Technically, Gohan heard what Deacon said, but the part of his mind, which handled the mundane things like deciphering language wasn't making itself heard. The only thing that mattered was his anger and the energy humming through him in tune with that anger. "Give it back." This time the request wasn't even in the Saijen tongue. 

Deacon came to a gradual realization that if he didn't play this kid smart, he might get himself killed. Tail, I have to get his tail before he explodes. Before the confrontation had turned into a duel, he might have had a lackey grab the tail, but that possibility had passed. It was his fight now. "Well kid, if you really wanted this. You just had to ask." Deacon reared back and threw the toy with all his strength at the new kid. Without waiting to see how the new kid would handle the projectile, Deacon was moving. He needed to get behind his adversary. It was his best chance of ending the battle unharmed. If he was injured here it could be disastrous. Who knew when they'd be sent back into a real battle? He had survived so long; he was not going to be denied his freedom by some toddler over a toy. 

Gohan saw the Dragonball, flying at his face as if in slow motion. Without a thought he raised his hand and intercepted it. Slowly he turned his hand and stared at the ball. It didn't matter that the theft, which sparked his transformation into energy incarnate had technically been rectified. The anger and the energy still controlled him. Where was his target? Where was his enemy? 

Deacon surveyed his quarry. Instead of dodging, the kid had the ball clutched in one hand, and his energy was still blaring like a beacon. In another moment, Deacon had the kid by the tail. Even seized by the partial paralysis and mind numbing pain, the kid didn't let go of the little ball. "Kids these days. They just don't know when they're outmatched, eh?" 

Gohan wasn't sure what had happened. Like yanking a plug out of a socket, Deacon had turned off the power by grabbing Gohan's tail. His mind was working like it was supposed to again. Faintly he could feel the Dragonball in his hand. It was as if someone had him by the spine. He could feel pain dull and central, but the rest of him was numb.

Aush wanted to scream. He hated the boys like Deacon, the strong, the ones who were always in control. They wandered through the dormitory, humbled the young and the weak, beat their guts out, all in the name of making them stronger. Aush had wanted Gohan to pound him, destroy him, make him one of the weak, but he hadn't. He had gotten himself beaten. Not only had Gohan failed to injure anyone, he was now exposed. Everyone knew what Aush had first recognized. Gohan was strong, worth making an ally. 

Deacon held a child by the tail, a dangerous, powerful, possibly useful child. He could eliminate him. No one would care one way or another. It seemed so wasteful though. Strong allies were the best way to survive a war. Whatever he decided, it would have to be done quickly. His followers were back, and they would need to see decisive action one way or another. "Well he is a powerful little super-Saijen-wanna-be, isn't he?" That statement elicited little insincere laughs from some of the children. Few of them knew enough Saijen lore to understand Deacon's sarcasm, and Deacon didn't even try to educate them. Most of the children didn't care about strategy or the future. They were ready to see blood. "I like a challenge, think I'll keep him." 

One of the boys who'd originally held Gohan for Deacon shook his head. "Be careful your new pet doesn't bite your hand off." 

"I proved I could handle him, Tato," Deacon said. "Let's see what the little thing has to say about his promotion from meat-sack to one of mine." Deacon released Gohan's tail and took a small step back. 

Gohan was so tired. He'd never been so tired. It seemed useless to push up against the gravity holding him so firmly to the cool metal floor. There were so many pairs of feet though. Gohan could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on him. The inclination to just sleep fled as adrenalin flooded into his system. He rolled onto his back and sat up. Well he'd blacked out again, lost time, but he seemed to have gotten his Dragonball back. 

"Well kid, you're still alive. Guess what that means," Deacon said. The kid looked dazed, confused, and highly pliable. Not waiting for a reply Deacon reached over and pulled Gohan to his feet. "It means you're mine. I didn't kill you when I could have. Get it?" 

Gohan looked from Deacon to the boys around him. What could Deacon possibly want from him? "I don't want to belong to you?" 

"Well, then you'll have to kill me or die trying. Either way, you wouldn't belong to me anymore," Deacon said. The kid should consider himself lucky. He was being invited into the protection of one of the strongest boys in the block. There were other strong groups, but their leaders weren't half as soft on the little ones as him. "Well you want to fight then?" 

Gohan stared at this big boy and part of him gave up. He'd just have to compromise. Just do what he was told until his parents could get there. He'd have to try and not get himself killed. "I'll do what you want," Gohan said. "Okay?" 

When Deacon claimed Gohan, Aush almost did scream. It was highly unlikely that another opportunity like Gohan would fall in his lap, and he'd blown it. "I'm going to die." Aush wasn't sad. He was angry: angry with his father for casting him off, angry with Gohan and Deacon and all of them for being strong, but most of all he was angry with himself. He had a chance and now he didn't. 


	7. Turnitz

**

**

Chapter 6 - Turnitz 

  
  


Commander Turnitz slouched in a gaudy red leather seat. Other Saijens, mostly scouts, milled about, drank liquor and by pairs slipped away upstairs. One of the few women without at least one man buzzing around her, Turnitz had a glass of a greenish frothy liquid in her hand and a scowl on her face. 

Turnitz was actually quite pretty by Saijen standards. She was slender and taunt with muscle. She really wasn't that old either, not even thirty. The parade of men, Saijens, wandering through the recreation area, just did not interest her, and she was quick to let them know how little appeal they possessed. "Why do I bother?" 

"Commander Turnitz, there you are." A young man wearing black with a rectangular green patch across the breast came to an abrupt stop in front of Turnitz. "Calso, reporting. I'm your new junior scout." 

Turnitz rolled her eyes and scanned him over briefly: tall, half-breed, nice eyes, blonde hair - pretty in an exotic way. "I guess we should get to know each other a little. Have a seat." Turnitz pointed out a pale green replica of the seat she was sprawled in. 

"Yes ma'am." Calso tried to sit upright in the chair, but the design was more suited to a half-sprawl and he ended up perched uncomfortably on the edge of the seat. 

Turnitz almost laughed. He was cute, too serious, but at least he wasn't infuriatingly cocky. "What route did you take to the scouts?" Turnitz asked. She brushed gently at the green patch on his breast. 

"I was born on Vegeta and tested scout-suitable at four. I've been working as a trainer for the last few years, but I've wanted to try fieldwork for some time," Calso said. 

Turnitz leaned forward and grinned. She pushed Calso gently into his chair properly and settled herself back comfortably. "Relax. This is not a test. You have the job." 

Calso smiled nervously and nodded. "Of course, but I should tell you, command sent me with orders besides myself. You are to report to High command at eight tomorrow, new assignment." 

"That's tomorrow, tonight is for enjoying a vacation," Turnitz said. She waved to a server and quietly requested a beverage for her new junior officer. "I hope you like a good Teklin beer." 

"Sounds, good." Calso had tried to ignore the interest in his commander's eyes, and the blatant flirting, but it was unmistakable. Instead of attempting to fight it, he decided to go with it. He'd be a fool to spurn her. She wasn't ugly, and she was a full Saijen. 

"So, were the scouts your first choice, or were you hoping and praying for that warrior classification?" Turnitz asked. She downed her drink in one long gulp and discarded the glass. 

"There is more power and prestige even for a half-breed in the Warrior class, but it's also a little more...insane. I wasn't disappointed with the scout designation," Calso said. He worded his answer carefully, not exactly sure what she wanted to hear and not wanting to derail the relationship he'd started with his commander. To answer the question honestly, he would have loved a warrior designation, but he didn't have the raw power. Fortunately, he had been able to accept that about himself without too much anger or angst. 

"Insane is a good word for it. I think it's the power," Turnitz said. "I think it short circuits their brains. The more powerful they are, the more psychotic." 

The server returned with two more drinks and Turnitz downed hers quickly. "Would you like to know how I came to be a scout?" Calso nodded and sipped slowly at his drink. Turnitz heard herself talking, running her mouth about the past, and she wondered at her inebriation that she'd let herself wander down this road again. "My parents were Davrok and Para, highly honored warriors the both of them. Have you heard of them?" Turnitz could see her parents as she talked. Her mother had been beautiful, tall and strong but sort of peaceful too. She had held her children. Turnitz wasn't sure, but she didn't think most Saijen mothers were so kind. Her father had been completely different. Stout and short, he was cold and aloof with the children. His warmth was reserved for their mother, his Para. "Come on everyone has heard of them." Almost reluctantly, Calso nodded along to the assertion. "Well, I was their fourth child. I guess you heard how the couple ended their relationship." 

Calso hesitated to fill in the bit of information, but the commander was staring expectantly at him. "He killed her. Davrok killed Para." 

Turnitz nodded. "Correct. I was there. I'd just failed my warrior classification test." My father wouldn't look at me, wouldn't look at the child who failed. "He didn't think it was possible for a child of his to be weak."_ I failed. He should have blamed me. _"She had to have cheated, to have slept with some weak man who fathered me. I think that's what really galled him. He was sure it was someone weaker than him that she had been with." Turnitz stared hard at her empty glass. "You know, if I'd been just a little stronger, tried a little harder, I'd have passed, but I didn't really want it." 

Calso was beginning to think that a trip upstairs wasn't going to happen for him tonight. The more the commander drank, the more their conversation seemed to shift toward confidant mode. He'd preferred seduction, but getting close to one's commander was worth some pointless conversation. "That must have been intense. Was he right? Did she cheat?" 

Turnitz laughed and shook her head vehemently. "She loved that man too much. Para wasn't a good Saijen really. Think about it. She left a warrior classification behind to have babies." Turnitz leaned forward and took the beer her companion hadn't taken more than a few sips from and began sipping it for herself. "He loved her too you know. After all, he killed her over a little suspected infidelity." 

"A definite symptom of love," Calso said. 

"Come," Turnitz said. She came to her feet abruptly and pulled Calso up. "I want to go upstairs." 

Playing confidant was going to pay off after all. Calso grinned wolfishly. "Yes ma'am." 

* * *

Squax sat silently across from the new junior scout on their team, Calso. The commander had ordered them to wait at the hangar for her arrival. Apparently, they had new orders, but he was much more interested in the new member of their team. He couldn't be any worse than Cavige had been, but that didn't say much. Squax had made it a point to keep his tongue. A man's response to silence could say a lot about his temperament. So far, Calso had shown himself to be cool and collected. 

The only real problem Squax had identified was the green patch on the kid's uniform. Half-breeds were unnatural and shouldn't be cultivated quite so actively, at least that was his opinion. Diluting the bloodlines would come back to haunt them in the long run. 

"Gentleman," Turnitz said. She strode into the hangar with three other Saijens. "We've been assigned a new type of mission today. We won't be scouting per se. We will be overseeing some fighting. The command has elected to dispatch the Kiddie-Corp, Diasheru. Planet designate 717, common name Garuth, has been sold. Unfortunately, it is inhabited by a moderately tough breed of higher life form, has no moon, and they don't have the warriors to spare for a hasty clean up." She winked briefly at Calso. "Excited yet gentlemen?" 

"How long in transit?" Squax asked. "I haven't been out of my pod long enough to stretch. Hate to go back in so soon." 

"No pod this time. We'll be traveling in style, full cruiser. But to answer your question, two months," Turnitz said. "I will be commanding officer, though we will have a couple of scouts along of equal rank. I'm older and meaner so the command decided to put me in charge. Any questions?" 

"I hate to keep hammering at you here, commander, but how did we get stuck with this and, what the Hell does supervising the Kiddie-Corp. involve?" Squax said. 

"Good questions. Apparently, there's a rotation to the supervisory positions, who knew. Fortunately, we only have to ride it out for five years. As for what this assignment is going to entail." Turnitz pointed out the men behind her. "We should be learning all about that over the next two months, yes?" 

Introductions began and dragged on for another twenty minutes, but as soon as possible, Turnitz made off with Squax for a private conversation. Leaving him alone with Calso hadn't been without motivations. "What do you think?" she asked seriously. The one man she trusted was her second, Squax. His opinion of the new guy was important. It was important because she had become attached to the new guy entirely too intimately, entirely too quickly, and the two most important men in her life shouldn't be enemies. 

"I don't have a problem with him. He's not a total ass like Cavige. We'll see how he handles himself in the field." Squax had a talent for holding in his emotions, only letting the face he chose show. Some would call him a manipulator, but he just considered himself cautious. Turnitz didn't need to see it, but he was beyond livid at that moment. He had seen the wink his commander had exchanged with the little half-breed. He'd seen it and it infuriated him. How dare she wink at that little animal? Squax had never made a move on the commander because she was his commander. Half-breeds didn't appear to have that much sense. 

"I like him. He has that exotic alien thing going on. Jumped him last night when he reported for duty," Turnitz said. "I suspect he's too sensitive, not a good Saijen at all." 

Squax couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't betray his anger so he just nodded. 

"We'd best get to work," Turnitz said. She sighed and headed back to the small knot of talking scouts. Squax lingered behind. The commander was pleasant enough to work for, but she was too sensitive, and she made the mistake of assuming that everyone who didn't act like a total psychopath suffered from the same sensitivity. He'd have to watch this Calso. If he hurt the commander, there would be Hell to pay. 


	8. Learning

**

**

Chapter 7 Learning 

Gohan discovered a few things during his first few weeks belonging to Deacon's group. Why weren't there any girls? Half-breed girls stayed with their mothers and did their mother's work. Why did most of the boys have one or two slashes carved in their necks? That was how the command kept up with who was qualified to enter real service and training by surviving their first three battles. The most important thing Gohan picked up in those first days, was the fighting. Everything revolved around it. Almost every event of the day had an associated skirmish. Meals were a fight. You fought for which group went first. You fought for where you sat to eat. You even fought for who threw away their trash first. Fortunately, you didn't have to fight for the latrine, at least not unless there was a sudden rush. Belonging to Deacon's group had its advantages too. Gohan rarely had to fight anyone in another group. There were too many older more experienced fighters. 

The one real fight he'd gotten himself into had been over a tiny roasted fowl. A boy from another weaker group felt he'd laid ample claim to the bird by staring at it and had challenged Gohan personally for it. His first instinct was to give the boy the bird, but Deacon had already drummed it into him, that he wasn't allowed to walk away from a challenge, no matter how trivial. Instead, they'd squared off. Their battle was only one of a dozen already in progress and hardly anyone noticed. Gohan had not fought well. The small amount of training he'd received from his companions was no comparison to the experience the other boy brought to the table, and honestly, Gohan wasn't terribly attached to the fowl they were fighting for. 

His poor showing had almost cost him. Deacon had pulled him aside and chewed him out in front of the entire group. He had not represented them well. If Gohan couldn't become stronger, and try learning a little faster, he would have to go it alone. Given the opportunity for freedom when Deacon had first claimed him, Gohan would have jumped at it, but now after seeing how the boys who went it alone lived, he knew better. They were universal targets. Everyone punished them and they almost never got enough to eat. Gohan felt bad for them, but he didn't want to be one of them. 

They were in the middle of a meal now. Gohan surveyed the room surreptitiously, trying his best not to be obvious. The steaming slab of meat in front of him was fast cooling and he was starving from a long day of training. Gohan could tell he was getting stronger. The gravity didn't have him moving in slow motion anymore. He'd even gotten some punches in on his sparring partner, Tato. 

"You, I challenge you. That meat is mine." 

Gohan didn't have to turn around. He recognized the voice. It was the same boy who'd come for his roast fowl. He must have decided that Gohan was a weak link. Deacon and his group didn't pause from eating. This was Gohan's challenge. He stood slowly and turned to face the taller boy._ He's going to keep robbing you until you make him stop. _ "Fine. Let's fight." It was important not to show it, but Gohan was scared. He wasn't totally a novice, but he wasn't confident in the skills he'd been practicing either. 

"You ought to just give it to me," the boy sneered. "It's not like you have a chance. I mean look at you, tiny..." 

_ There's no such thing as unfair. There's no such thing as a dirty trick when you're in a battle. _Gohan reminded himself of what Deacon had taught him before he rushed the would-be-thief mid-taunt. The battle wasn't pretty, and Gohan took almost as many hits as he landed, but when it was over. Gohan was standing and the other boy was not. 

Gohan felt dirty with someone else's blood on his knuckles. He'd hurt the food thief, not permanently or even seriously. He should feel bad though? He hurt a person. Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear his mother telling him how bad it was to fight, a violent waste of time. Part of him was ashamed and embarrassed, but he also felt strangely satisfied like he belonged at Deacon's table today. Gohan limped back to his seat and slowly started eating his meat. This meal hadn't come completely by the good graces of his group. Gohan had paid for this one with his own blood and sweat. 

"You're learning fast. Guys like that won't be messing with you for long," Tato said. He pushed his last piece of fruit toward Gohan. "Congratulations on your first victory. I must be a good teacher." 

Gohan smiled a little and nodded. There wasn't any other acknowledgment of his victory. It was expected that you'd defend yourself. If he'd failed they'd have noticed. Winning wasn't surprising in Deacon's group, and if it was surprising for you then you weren't going to be running with Deacon for long. 

* * *

In the short break between the dinner battle and the battle for choice in bunks for the evening, the boys sparred. Deacon had claimed Tato this round and instead of fighting they watched the pack of boys tearing into each other. "I got some info from Festag at dinner. We're being dispatched." Deacon's hand strayed to the marks in his neck. Assuming he survived, this would be his last battle in Diasheru. 

"Easy? Hard? They think we're going to have any problems?" Tato asked. Unlike Deacon, Tato had only one line carved in his neck. He would likely be taking over the surviving boys when they lost Deacon. He was strong, experienced, and respected. Besides, Tato's boys had a nice ring to it. 

"Not an easy one. They think we're going to be able to handle it. Unfortunately, I don't have many details. A new scout crew is coming into rotation to supervise us, so the usual channels aren't coming through with the information quite as quickly." Deacon pointed at Gohan fighting with a taller boy, well technically all the boys were taller than Gohan. "I don't know what to think about that one. I know he's strong. You felt him when we took his little toy ball. Look at him though. He's just now getting adjusted to the gravity." 

"Yeah, he's strong. We pissed him off, and he cut loose, no control, no strategy. Let him train a little longer and he'll be able to pull his power out on command, not just when he's panicked. Too bad he won't be properly trained before your last battle with us, eh?" Tato said. 

"I'm sure you'll take full advantage of him, assuming he survives round one." 

Tato smirked and shrugged. "I'm not an idiot." 

Deacon scanned the faces around the room. "We have been entirely too distracted to make any rounds lately. Other groups will think we're getting soft. Any loners been rubbing you the wrong way?" 

Tato scanned the room slowly. "Actually, you know that purple wimp? He's been looking at you weird a little too often. I think we might want to inspire him to focus his creepy interest elsewhere." 

"Purple wimp? I know the purple wimp, Aush, right? You see him anywhere?" Deacon grinned and scanned more actively now that he had a quarry. 

"Find him. I'll assemble the boys," Tato said. 

Gohan was doing his best to dodge the fists of his current opponent, a silent boy, who hadn't spoken since Gohan's arrival. "Quiet But Deadly", a silly song that used to come on his mom's radio when she washed dishes, popped into his head. Gohan felt a smile growing inside him. He was beginning to anticipate his opponent's attacks. He wasn't sure if the quiet boy was attacking in a pattern or if he was just telegraphing his movement some way, but Gohan knew what was coming faster and faster. He was actually going to win, not against some weak little opponent either. This boy had a slash in his neck. This boy was one of Deacon's. 

Suddenly the fight was over. The silent boy came out of his fighting stance and moved away. Surrender? Then Gohan saw Tato moving among their group, stopping the skirmishes, and gathering everyone together. "We're making rounds," Tato said. Some of the boys laughed, others slapped their hands together in anticipation. Still others took the news without showing any emotion. Rounds? Gohan didn't know what those were. When in doubt, keep to the back of the group - it was a rule that made sense to Gohan. Besides, the boys who had seemed excited were more than happy to take the lead. 

When the pack stopped moving, Gohan couldn't actually see what was going on up front but he could hear so he listened. 

"If it isn't Periwinkle," Deacon said. "I heard a little rumor that you've been shooting me looks, freak. We apparently have a problem. I'm sure I can fix that though." 

Gohan wasn't surprised to hear the sound of punching and fighting. Everything was about a fight. It was a little surprising that whomever Deacon was taunting was taking it so quietly. The taunting generally went both ways. Then the group was moving again. Gohan followed along until saw the other combatant, the one who had taken the fight with Deacon so silently. It was the odd-looking little boy who'd first greeted Gohan. It was Aush. 

Aush didn't look too beaten up, a little battered around the edges maybe. Gohan had worse bruises, and those were just the ones he could see. Without a mirror, there was no telling what his face looked like. He was probably purple enough with bruises to look like Aush's brother. Then he caught Aush's eyes. They were beat up in every way that his body wasn't. Gohan didn't know what was wrong with those eyes, what was missing or what was dead, but the look that Aush leveled him with brought chill bumps up on his arms. Those eyes accused him of being just another one of them. They accused him of being a Saijen. 

Gohan wanted to run up to Aush and explain, to tell him that he hadn't known, and that he was just trying to survive, just until his Dad came for him. But the group was moving on. To let them leave him behind would be the same thing as challenging Deacon. Not only would Gohan lose the fight and possibly his life. Deacon was helping him survive, teaching him what he needed to know. 

"I'll show him someday." Gohan's words were too quiet for anyone to hear except himself. "I'm not just some Saijen. I will help him...someday." 

Now that Gohan understood what rounds were. He endured them from the back of the group, trying not to listen to the fights. How had he come to respect and be close to the boys who were doing this? They were beating up the weak boys, the ones without friends. How could he have forgotten that these boys were Saijens too? 

Gohan had never been more thankful when the battle for sleeping spots ended their attacks. As usual, Gohan ended up on the periphery of the battle with the other weaker of Deacon's boys. The day was finally over when Gohan climbed onto one of the little bunks, which lined the back of the room. He wanted to cry, not because he hurt on the outside where the bruises were shining, but because he wanted his mother. His mom would hold him and tell him what the right thing was. His dad would smile and protect him from anyone who wanted to hurt him. 

The little Dragonball pressing against his leg, made Gohan feel closer to home and infinitely father away. With a hand resting against his Dragonball, Gohan began what had become a daily ritual, he talked through his day just like he would have at dinner for his mom and dad. The words were only in his head, and his parents were indistinct figments of his imagination, but it made everything more manageable. 

"I hurt somebody today. He was going to take my dinner, and if I hadn't they'd probably have kicked me out of my group, but I didn't want to hurt him I swear." Gohan wanted to pull the Dragonball out, to look at it as he confessed, but it was too risky. Someone might see, might steal it. "Then there was this other guy. We were fighting too, but he wasn't going to hurt me. We were just practicing, but I was doing real good. He couldn't hit me cause I was too fast." 

Gohan paused and tried to find a way to word the next part, some way that wouldn't sound bad. "My group went around and beat up a bunch of the other kids today, the little weak kids. They hurt this one kid, Aush, who was nice to me when I first showed up. It felt like I hurt him though cause I couldn't help him. He looked at me real funny like I wasn't me. He hated me I think." Gohan stopped and rolled so his face was facing into his pillow. He was crying and someone might see, might hear. "You're coming though." Gohan addressed the hazy figments, his imaginary parents. "You'll make it all right again, and you'll save Aush too. He can come home with us. We could take them all, the little boys that aren't strong enough." Now that he'd solved the problem of helping Aush, if only in his head, Gohan stopped crying and stifled a yawn. "I'm real tired. So good night, and I love you." 

The hazy figments that Gohan explained his life to didn't follow him into his dreams. Tonight he dreamt only of fighting. No matter what happened though, win or lose, every battle ended with little Aush staring at him, accusing him, hating him. 


	9. A Journey

**

**

Chapter 8 A Journey 

  
  


The city of Veoten was a Saijen training city. The shimmering cylindrical skyscrapers, a gradually crumbling monument to a dead civilization, had been bastardized into dormitories and recreation areas by the very people who destroyed their builders. The Saijens used the city roughly without shame or regret. Their consciences didn't create ghosts in the cool perfect halls. The Saijens lived and trained, fought and hated without a thought beyond their next battle or their next kill. 

Not all Saijens in Veoten were destined to become Scouts or Warriors. Festag was a half-breed, a Saijen, a grunt. He was a giant by Saijen standards, standing over eight feet tall. You would think, with so much size and genetic potential that he would be a warrior, spitting fire and energy from his pores. In actuality, physical size wasn't an indication of strength when it came to Saijens. Festag missed out on the energy lottery completely. As a child he was sent to Daisheru and he survived. Unfortunately, even surviving three wars and fighting constantly with his peers wasn't able to build in Festag a spark of energy large enough for a lowly scout designation. Instead he was made curator of Daisheru, a large glorified janitor. He wasn't the first to fail even after passing the gauntlet of Daisheru or likely to be the last, but in his own way he was indispensable. No one else wanted to do the job he did. 

Festag had come to accept his status as the lowest of the low, forbidden to breed, totally without privileges and honors. He took his pleasures where he could, watching, feeding, caring for the half-breeds of Diasheru. Their victories were his. He cheered on the strong ones, laughed at the weak and the small. He wasn't quite bright enough to recognize his kinship with the weak, to empathize with their fate. 

Only one thing could ruin Festag's happiness. Losing his charges and his usefulness even for a short amount of time frightened him. Whenever the children were dispatched to do battle, he was left behind. He was alone in the dormitory. There was no work, nothing to occupy his time except for a dozen floors of empty rooms that he wandered without purpose. They were coming today, to take the children, his children. Festag folded his massive hands together, and through a high placed window, he watched as one of the dormitories of children slept. They would be gone tomorrow, and he'd be alone. 

* * *

Gohan couldn't say when the patterns and rituals of the half-breeds of Diasheru became his rituals. It wasn't like he'd been keeping up with time. At some point he went from waiting for his parents and going along with the motions, to knowing what was going to happen every day and expecting those things. He came to expect the battles and the occasional challenges. So when the lights came on and he rolled out of bed, he was taken off balance by the adults standing in a strict line in the middle of the room. There were never any adults unless a meal was being served. 

A woman stepped out in front of the other adults and scanned the unruly pack of boys in front of her. "Today we go to war. Assemble yourselves into three lines and follow. Do not dawdle." 

All the adults but one left. The remaining man clapped his hands started shouting at the still unmoving pack of children. 

Deacon threw up a hand. "Mine, behind me!" he shouted. Gohan fell into file with the rest of his group and waited. The half-dozen or so packs of boys with leaders fell into their own lines. It was obvious that none of the leaders wanted to fall in behind any other group. Gohan half-expected a fight to break out, but the adult stepped in and started ordering people into lines. 

They were going to war. Gohan had been so sure that his dad would have saved him by now. He wasn't supposed to have to go to war. Gohan's hand strayed to his Dragonball. Maybe his dad wasn't coming. Maybe he couldn't find the planet Vegeta... Or maybe he really was dead. Gohan hadn't been willing to consider the possibility of his father's death seriously. He just put it out of his mind and worked on surviving. 

Gohan stuck his hand down into his pocket and pulled out his Dragonball. Concern over being noticed with a toy or being robbed couldn't stop him from his last desperate gambit. His dad said you needed all the Dragonballs to make a wish, but Gohan was going to have a try with one. He shut his eyes and whispered his wish. "Let my mom and dad be okay and please make them hurry up and come get me." Gohan felt a less than gentle shove from behind and he stowed his Dragonball. The line was moving; they were going. 

* * *

The hoards of children being shuttled off the planet Vegeta didn't get to see the dry red planet they left behind. The windowless metal shuttles attached directly to their building. Neither were they allowed to see the graceful metal behemoth that would transfer them to Garuth, the site of their battle, their war. 

Unlike her charges, Commander Turnitz had a front row seat to their departure. First she was obliged to watch the never-ending lines of untidy surly children as they were loaded like livestock into the temporary transports. There wasn't any discipline or order. These half-breeds were like a pack of feral dogs, barely cognizant enough not to strike out at the more powerful full-Saijens overseeing them. 

Rather than directly command the rounding up of their miniature army, Turnitz left that tedious task to her subordinates. Still, everywhere she turned there were children underfoot. At least when they finally made it to the Star Cruiser she was able to find some peace and solitude. 

Turnitz sighed deeply and draped herself across one of the linear stark chairs dotting the commander's quarters. The new assignment, war supervisors, would not have been her first choice in missions. A war wasn't such a bad assignment; it was all the children that ruined the atmosphere. If Turnitz had wanted to play nurse-mommy to a pack of children, she'd be bearing her own. This assignment was probably shafted off on her because she was a woman. The command hated when women rose in the ranks, so the swine got their digs in where they could. Turnitz was careful not to show her disgruntlement, no reason to confirm that she was annoyed and unhappy. Instead she remained impassive, giving instructions when necessary. 

There were positive aspects to the current assignment as well. At least she had a moderately stable crew for a change. Turnitz could remember Squax glaring at the children filing past him. He wasn't that much taller than his charges, but he made up for it in meanness. Few of the kiddies had the stones to meet his angry glare. Turnitz smiled and ran her fingers through her short black hair. And dear Calso appeared competent, but more importantly, he was a delightful distraction. 

* * *

The dormitories in Veoten had been massive, housing around a hundred children. They offered a place to sleep and eat and most importantly plenty of room to fight. The Star Cruiser had to serve the same purpose without nearly as much space. 

Gohan hadn't realized how roomy his assigned dormitory had been on Veoten until he'd been crammed into a similar space plus five times the children. The battles came quicker and were much meaner now. Tempers, always short, had become even more violent and masochistic. Children began to die. 

Gohan saw it begin. A group from a different dormitory assembled and began stalking the loners. It was like rounds with Deacon, but these guys didn't just pound the boys. Once they set in they didn't stop until the victim stopped breathing. Gohan tasted the bile rising in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know the broken little boy bleeding in front of him. He didn't need to know him to know that someone should stop them. Someone should help. 

"Those boys have the right idea. This place is entirely too crowded," Deacon said. He grinned and raised a hand calling his boys to him. 

Gohan's eyes snapped open at the sound of Deacon's declaration. He couldn't mean what it sounded like he meant. They were going to kill the weakest kids to get their elbowroom back? They wouldn't. 

The next few hours passed like a blur for Gohan. He tried not to watch, to distance himself from the killings, but when the day ended and he had to step over the small lifeless bodies to climb into his bunk, there was no distance, just an incredible weight on his chest and a burning behind his eyes. I should have done something to help. Why didn't I help? Because I'm weak, that's why. Cause they'd have killed me too. Because I still want to live. 

The lights flashed off cloaking the carnage piled on the floor in darkness. Some of the boys hadn't made it to their bunks before the lights extinguished and they could be heard stumbling through the obstacle course of the dead. Wrapping the thin pillow from his bunk around his head, Gohan tried to block out the wet plopping noises of the other boys falling and getting up again. He closed his eyes and dropped one hand around the Dragonball in his pocket. The magic ball was cool and familiar under his hand. The ball never left his pocket, but it never warmed up either. It was always cool with a tingly buzz, magic maybe. 

It was time for Gohan to talk to his pretend parents, but he couldn't seem to bring them to his mind's eye. When the hazy figures finally formed, they were far less distinct than they had been when he first began his nightly confessions. Gohan's usual internal monologue didn't come easily either. Instead of a steady stream of words, Gohan stumbled through his thoughts hesitantly. "You aren't coming, are you? I can't just wait for you to come for me, if you're not coming. See if I don't get real strong, real fast, I'm gonna die here. They just killed a buncha kids cause it's crowded, and they wanted a little more room." 

Gohan scrunched his eyes harder, afraid to open them and maybe see the death hiding in the shadows below. "I don't wanna die here. I can be strong and play their games. I'm not gonna lose, and I won't die. I won't." Gohan rolled onto his side and tried not to think about all the bad things just out of sight. "I wish you were here. They don't know the simplest little things. Like, you're not supposed to kill people." Gohan curled up into a ball. "I don't know what I'm gonna hafta to do. Maybe I can get home myself, if I'm strong enough." 

* * *

"We have a problem, commander." 

Turnitz rolled smoothly out of bed and turned to face the young Saijen in her doorway. Her body was bare revealing nearly flawless pale skin marred only by some scars and a couple of freckles, but without even the hint of any blush. "How can we have a problem soldier? We're in transit. Did the ship break down? What?" 

"It's the kids in level B. There was a mass killing, at least a hundred half-breeds. What measures should we take to punish them?" The young Saijen looked away from his naked commander. 

Turnitz smiled and stepped into a fresh uniform. "Since when do we punish murders? Why aren't we handing out medals?" 

"Any significant decrease in the strike force is considered detrimental to the mission Ma'am." 

Turnitz nodded and sighed. "Of course, the mission. I guess we'll have to nip this in the bud, yes. Go ahead, pull the kiddies out of bed and let them assemble themselves into their hierarchy. They do have one, yes?" 

"Yes Commander, I'm on it," the young Saijen said. 

Turnitz ran a hand distractedly through her hair and started slowly after her subordinate. Might as well give him plenty of time to get the little beasts assembled. Apparently, her first impressions of the half-breeds had been right on, feral dogs. You put too many of them together and they rip each other's throats out until they feel territorially secure. Well, if she wanted to get through this mission with her career intact, she'd have to control these animals. Control meant communicating in terms they understood. Turnitz grinned wickedly. Wild animal was a language in her blood. It was time she let them know who the biggest dog on the block was.

* * *

The adults were back. 

Gohan kept his eyes up, straight ahead, staring at the back in front of him. There wasn't anywhere to stand that didn't involve straddling in the very least a puddle of blood. Gohan refused to think about what was strewn across the floor between and under his feet. He shifted himself a bit to the right so he could see the adults. Four men and a woman were standing on a platform, staring at them. 

"Quiet," commanded the woman. The half-breeds fell silent almost immediately. Gohan felt chill bumps rise on his arms. It hadn't been shouted, but the command sounded mean, threatening. "I am Commander Turnitz, your commander." 

Turnitz? Gohan craned his neck to get a better look. That was the woman who brought him to Diasheru, who told him his father was dead. 

"Well children, we have a problem. You've been killing my strike force. We can't have that can we?" She motioned one of the men with her to step forward. "Now I've been considering the punishment options. My second, Squax will be choosing a representative from each of your little groups. He'll be choosing the weakest of you. I'd rather not waste the strong." 

Gohan shifted back behind the boy in front of him and tried to make himself as small as possible. Whatever the plan for the group _representatives_ was, Gohan would rather avoid it. It was hard not being able to see what was happening, knowing that he was considered one of the weakest in his group and the undisputed smallest. 

"You, runt, come on." Gohan looked up and around the boy in front of him, and sure enough the order had been directed at him. Hiding hadn't been good enough. Gohan made his way to the front of the group. 

The other boys were chosen quickly. When all was said and done, there were nearly thirty of them. Most were small, and almost none of them had a slash carved in their neck. "They're not as small as me though," Gohan thought. 

"Well then, that's done," Turnitz said. "The rest of you can start cleaning up your mess. These representatives will determine which of your leaders pays for your errors."

Gohan didn't like the sound of that. Everything that needed deciding always boiled down to a fight. Fights weren't something both combatants walked away from anymore. It was time to play their game, to die or not to die. Gohan was in charge of his own destiny. Squax led them away into a smaller room with Turnitz following close behind. 

"Well children, it is time for you to fight. For the one of you who survives, this will be some very valuable experience," Turnitz said. "As for the rest of you, consider your deaths punishment for the naughty behavior. Have fun now. Remember, only one of you gets to leave here." Turnitz and Squax left without a backward look and sealed the door behind them. 

Why didn't anyone look shocked? Why did the other kids just accept such a terrible decision? Gohan wished there was somewhere to run. It was worse than he'd imagine it could be. Putting his back to the nearest wall, Gohan waited, nervously scanning the other boys for a sign they were about to attack. Those with any foresight at all had reacted similarly backing up to a wall. They were all at least as hesitant as him to jump into this fight. These boys weren't the cocky homicidal bastards who'd started the killing, but they were going to pay for it. Gohan could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Can I kill them? Can I play this game? 

Then the fighting began. A jumpy twitchy kid in the center of the room threw himself at another boy. Suddenly everyone was flying at everyone. Being the smallest kid in the room, Gohan was of course a first choice in opponents. Questions about his ability to do this, to fight and kill fled his mind. All his attention was caught by his opponent, a kid not much bigger than himself. Punch, kick, dodge, duck, block, the fight had a rhythm, and Gohan fell into it. The energy in him, the force that could fill him and control him began to glow brighter and brighter. This time the energy didn't short-circuit his brain though. Gohan had begun to learn control. The other boy really was weak, much weaker than Gohan anyway. He couldn't land a punch and wasn't blocking very well at all. Then his opponent was down. He had dropped to his knees, panting and spitting up blood. 

"To die or not to die?" Gohan whispered. Only one boy was walking out of the room. If he couldn't kill, it wouldn't be him. "I'm sorry." Gohan kicked out again, and again. Every breath, whispering the same words, "I'm sorry." 

There was no break from his first battle to the next. Gohan fought every boy that strayed near him. Not initiating the battles, but defending himself like a demon. No one noticed the tears streaming down his face or his murmured apologies. 

When it was all over, nearly thirty boys lay dead piled atop each other like livestock at a slaughterhouse. Only one little boy remained, sitting in a corner, head resting on his knees and his chest shaking with sobs. Gohan couldn't make himself look at the dead boys. He'd only actually killed four of them, but it felt like he'd killed them all. Never mind that they'd have killed him in a heartbeat or that he hadn't been given any other choices, Gohan felt like a murderer. He didn't even notice when the door reopened and the adults returned. 

"So, do we have a winner?" Turnitz called. She picked her way through the bodies looking for a live one. "Don't tell me no one is left alive?" 

"Something's moving in the corner, Commander," Squax said. "See it?" 

Turnitz turned toward Gohan's corner and headed over. The little half-breed was all curled up, covered from head to foot in blood, quite possibly wounded. "Up soldier. Your commander's here," Turnitz snapped. 

Gohan tilted his head up slowly. He felt stretched taunt, like a tiny push might break him into a thousand pieces. This woman caused it, all the death. It was her idea. An emotion Gohan had never known flashed to life inside him, pure cold and bitter hate. That hate alone brought him to his feet. That hate lent him the strength to meet his commander's eyes. I hope she can see how much I hate her. I hope it makes her afraid. If I were bigger, she could join those little boys in the floor. Her I would kill, and I wouldn't cry about it. 

Turnitz grinned. "You're the little tot we picked up on our last mission. Good show, tyke. Maybe you'll even survive the war." Turnitz liked the way he was looking at her. His eyes had fire. "Let's go. You're group should be glad to see you." 

Gohan followed Turnitz. His body ached with every step. All his fights hadn't been as easy as the first. He wouldn't ask her for help though. He'd rather die. Back in the newly cleaned dormitory the groups were reassembled. The leaders were anxiously straining to see who'd survived the free for all. Gohan caught Deacon's eyes and nodded slightly. Deacon grinned in return and seemed to visibly relax. 

"Go to your group," Turnitz commanded. Gohan shuffled over into step behind Deacon and waited to see what else was in store. "I know you have little leaders. I want every leader to step forward." There was hesitation along the line. To not step forward would be an act of cowardice that none of the leaders were willing to commit. One by one they came forward. The only one who stepped up without hesitation was Deacon, secure in his position and excited to see what was in store for the rest of the losers. Turnitz walked over to Deacon and smiled. "You appear to be preparing these boys to survive. Good. The rest of you, your followers are dead. One of you dies next." 

Turnitz dropped down to Deacon's eye level. "Your choice, who pays?" 

Deacon hardly hesitated. He pointed to the leader of the group that started the killing. "He started it all. Seems only fair that he take the punishment." 

Turnitz nodded. "Excellent choice. I can appreciate symmetry." She walked briskly to the doomed little boy. He didn't back away. Instead he faced his commander head on. "Are you ready." 

"Do I even get to fight," he asked. 

"You get to die," Turnitz said. When she moved, it was like lightning. One second there was a live little boy posturing like a man then his neck cocked at an impossible angle there was only a corpse. "Let this be an event. Let it be a lesson. This should be the last death of this voyage. Save your murderous intent for the enemy. Next time I have to make an example of someone, it will be all you little leaders, understood." She wiped her hands and pointed to the body. "Someone dispose of that, and the bodies next door. I'd like to get back to sleep now." 

Once the adults were finally gone, Gohan found himself surrounded by his group. A dozen boys were touching him, congratulating him, praising him. If they didn't stop soon he was going to scream. Didn't they know he was a murderer? What was wrong with them? Before Gohan could start fighting his way free of the other boys, Deacon freed him. 

He stared at Gohan for a long time, as though seeing him for the first time. "I don't know your name. What is it?" Deacon said. 

Gohan looked up at Deacon, a killer like the rest, but one who'd helped him. More than two months in the group, and he'd never said his name once. No one had been interested. "Gohan. My name's Gohan." 

Deacon flinched. "Gohan? That's not going to do. You survive the war we're going into. I'll help you out with a name. I'll be thinking about it till then. You quite possibly saved my ass back there." 

"What's wrong with my name?" Gohan said. He was beginning to feel detached. The periphery of his vision was blurred. 

"It'll mark you as an off-worlder. Your name will screw you up before you even get started," Deacon said. "Now, get to bed kiddies. We have another big day tomorrow." 

Gohan wasn't sure how he made it to bed. He had no memory of putting one foot in front of the other to get there. More than anything Gohan wanted to confess his sins, to hold his Dragonball and cry to his parents. By confessing he relinquished at least some of the blame and gained some degree of forgiveness in return. He couldn't confess though, not tonight. His sins were too heavy and dark to burden his Dragonball. Gohan felt sure that the blood on his hands would soak into the magic ball and taint it forever. 

His parent's faces had begun to fade from his memory, but the boys he'd killed, those faces he remembered. They stayed with him in his dreams. In his dreams they weren't killers, and they didn't want to hurt him. In his dreams they were just kids, alive and laughing. Gohan wished he were with them. He wished he could be free too. Like most dreams they faded before morning, unlike Gohan's reality and his growing guilt. 


	10. Garuth A Little War

**

**

Chapter 9 Garuth - A Little War 

  
  


The planet of Garuth wasn't terribly noteworthy in the galactic scheme of things. A class delta world, it was barely large enough to be considered a planet. There was only one major landmass. A forest stretched across that small continent shore to shore unbroken. The trees, randomly scattered giants, stretched toward the stars. Their purple and silver bark was garnished with red and orange leaves. Unseen from above, the trees' roots went deep into the black dirt intermingling with one another, merging the trees into one organism. 

Beneath the canopy, millions of animals flourished. Flying creatures with wild yellow and red plumage soared from branch to branch. Lizard-like creatures scurried up and down the trees. There were a thousand varieties, a thousand flavors of creatures. One species shepherded them all. Giants, the eight-limbed behemoths moved with simple fluid grace. Their mottled purple skin blended perfectly with their environment, and their large gentle eyes were set in three parallel lines across their faces. Herbivorous creatures, they fed on the trees' sap. When necessary they worked to conserve their world to nourish the garden they called home. They had only one name for themselves, Kaichi - family. They had only one purpose, to live and see. 

While the Kaichi labored in ignorance, an army entered orbit around their tiny world. While the Kaichi shored up life, death began a slow descent from the heavens. 

* * *

Turntiz gazed out her quarter's observation window at the planet they were circling. It was perhaps the smallest world she'd ever been dispatched to. The gravity would be light and the children would likely have little trouble with the native lifeforms. The scouting report was brief. The only aliens of any real concern were the large purple creatures. The scouting team had made the mistake of cutting down a tree. The purple creatures hadn't liked that. They'd attacked ferociously, and it was a wonder any of the scouts had made it off planet. 

"Will we be descending to the surface to watch the battle?" Calso asked. His taunt lean body was stretched casually across a long sofa-like chair. "We're here to supervise, right?" 

Turnitz shook her head and answered without turning away from the view. "We'll send down the first half of the army. Let them engage the enemy, get things under control. Then we'll come in and watch with the second wave." 

"We'll miss half the fun that way," Calso said. 

"Live with it soldier. It's an order," Turnitz said. The first transports were just visible glowing red in the atmosphere, falling like a fiery rainstorm. 

* * *

Gohan, the little boy packed into transport shuttle 12, wasn't the same little boy who started the journey to Garruth. In all honesty, he no longer considered himself a child. He had fought for his life and lived. He'd killed other people so he could keep going on. There was shame and guilt and grief, but Gohan still didn't want to die. 

The shuttle came to land with a violent cracking noise and crash. Two of the boys closest to the door were almost immediately pulling the exit open. No one had even bothered to tell them where they were or what to expect. Gohan merged with the flow of kids and jumped out of the door, landing on all fours in the soft pale purple turf. A giant tree lay sprawled on its side, likely what had caused their rough landing. 

Half the kids who'd been packed into the transport were Deacon's. The others had no leader and were quick to defer to the man giving orders. Deacon obviously relished the deference and was quick to take the other kids in hand. 

"So where's the enemy?" Deacon said. He turned a slow circle. "Keep your guard up. We can try and find some of the other transports around here while we wait for the enemy, right." 

The enemy, nameless and faceless, was out there. Gohan turned slowly until he was staring at the fallen tree. It seemed to be vibrating. He reached down to the ground and he could feel the vibration, like a herd of something really big rampaging. The enemy? Gohan swung his head from side to side, trying to see something, hear something. "Look out," he shouted. "They're coming, look out." 

There was no time for a response from the other boys. A dozen elephantine monsters were upon them. Wild red eyes rolled, and a horrible keening poured from their throats. Almost immediately Gohan lost sight of the other boys. He could feel their auras nearby bright and sharp against the more diffuse energy of the giant aliens. 

Gohan felt the energy in him leap and grow burning in his chest. The world seemed to slow down around him. The enemy was big, but they were so very slow. The other half-breeds had flown into the fight. Occasionally Gohan caught a glimpse of them, beating at the tough hide of the creatures and moving too quickly to be touched in return. Gohan felt as though he waited a million years to choose his spot to attack, a million years in which the beasts hardly moved at all. When Gohan finally flew at an alien, he was glad in an abstract way that Deacon had bothered with flying lessons. Trying to attack these beasts from the ground would have made things more challenging. 

Things were plenty challenging enough. Punching the creature's hide was like smacking steel. There wasn't any give, no apparent damage. Gohan could hear the cries of the other fighters' frustration. There had to be a way to hurt these things. 

All his attention focused on attacking, Gohan didn't see the creature rearing behind him. One moment he was pounding on the tough hide of an alien, the next he was wrapped in sticky wetness. Not expecting to be swallowed, Gohan didn't even get a breath. He struck out in a complete panic, thrashing with his legs and punching. Unlike the tough outer hide, the inside of the alien tore like paper. Gohan fought blindly trying to escape the gullet of his enemy. 

Not far away, Deacon struggled to damage one of the rampaging aliens. This was not turning out to be a particularly easy battle. If things didn't change, the weaker boys were going to fall out, exhausted. They might be overwhelmed. Who the Hell knew how many of these things there were? 

This enemy had to fall now, not later. Deacon's last battle in Diasheru was to be his triumph. Drawing in a deep breath, Deacon screamed, a battle cry as old as the Saijen race, an instinctual howl of fury. Almost as if in response to the furious scream, one of the behemoths slowly toppled to the ground. "Maybe we're causing damage after all?" The dying creature heaved and expunged a slimy bolus. Deacon wouldn't have thought twice about the death throws of the aliens, but the wad of slime moved and took form, one of the half-breeds. "That...works." 

Deacon's eyes glimmered with mischief and he dove into the battle, not targeting an alien, but one of his own people. He grabbed the boy by the back of his uniform "Listen up. They're too tough to fight like this. Claw your way out, understand?" The little boy didn't answer. He struggled against Deacon, trying to get back into the battle. "Moron." He tossed the struggler into the nearest open beast mouth. Deacon didn't wait to see how effective his new strategy was going to be. He spotted another kid and went after him. 

Fortunately for the boys being stuffed into their enemy's gullet, the strategy was effective if a little disgusting. It didn't take long for Deacon's unique plan to spread among the other half-breeds. The tide of the battle finally began to turn.

* * *

Only two days of blood and slime and fighting, two revolutions of a tiny world and Garuth had been subjugated. Many of the young and the weak among the half-breeds didn't survive those two short revolutions. Conversely, none of the purple giants, the Kaichi, survived. Their forest was in shambles, the smaller creatures hiding in nooks and crannies, waiting for the plague of war to pass. Many of the trees lay prostrate, cut off from their brothers, themselves. 

Amidst the tortured forest, Turnitz stood atop a stark box-like transport and surveyed the ragtag pack of children in front of her. They mingled on and amongst an unending sea of purple corpses. Many of the giant trees had fallen in the course of the war leaving enough space for most of the half-breeds to crowd into the clearing. Virtually all of the children were covered from head to foot in gray viscous slime. None seemed very concerned about their filthy disposition. They were alive and still reveling in their victory. Commander Turnitz grinned coldly at them. 

"The fighting is over, and your enemy lies dead at your feet. You did well." Not one to dawdle over congratulations, Turnitz summoned a ball of energy into her palm and tossed it at one of the trees that was still standing, and it exploded into flames. "Now begins the cleaning, the burning. When this forest lies in ashes, we get to go home." Some of the children grumbled rubbing their stomachs. The only food that had passed their lips for two days had been tough and gamy, carved from the hides of their enemy. Saijens were nothing, if not defensive of their stomachs. 

Oblivious to the dissatisfied grumbles of the children, Turnitz pressed a tiny button on a handheld device, and an ear-piercing trill erupted from the transport under her feet. The children jerked in unison and many covered their ears, others grimaced but refused to show themselves to be weak by protecting their ears. As soon as the trill terminated, Turnitz continued. "When you hear this tone, head to the nearest transport. Don't make my men round you up. They don't like busy work. Now go." 

The boys scattered and attacked the forest with at least as must gusto as they had its custodians. They were ready to reap their rewards and go home. Some were advancing into Saijen society properly, and the rest were moving up a notch on the Diasheru foodchain. 

Not all of the surviving children caught Turnitz's assembly and her new orders. Some ignored the initial call to report, while others didn't hear it. Gohan fell into the latter group. At first glance, nothing but another pile of grayish slime, Gohan was perched atop a barren little cliff face. He could see where the battle had raged, where he and the others had fought last. The sun was dropping fast in the sky, and on a planet without a moon, it would soon be too dark to see much of anything with any distinction. 

Gohan couldn't wait for the anonymity of night. He'd seen enough death to last him a lifetime. The orangey glow of the sunset didn't fade to black though. The sun disappeared behind the trees but they retained the orb's fire. Gohan stared dispassionately, beyond surprise or shock. So now they were burning it. Made sense. Why stop with annihilating the animals? Might as well burn it all to the ground. 

"Another straggler," a boy shouted. Gohan jerked his head around. So much for a break and some peace, he came quickly to his feet and turned to face these boys that had invaded his hiding spot. "Get busy kid. The sooner we get these fires going, the sooner we get to go home." Gohan barely nodded. Home? Back to Vegeta wasn't home. He wasn't ever going home again. "Can you start a fire or what?" 

Gohan shrugged. "Probably." The nice cool detachment he'd been nursing on the bleak cliff suddenly felt delicate, and Gohan wasn't sure what was left inside him beneath the shell that was letting him function. Leave me alone. Just go away, light your fires and leave me here. 

"Lay off that runt. He's one of mine." 

Deacon? Gohan turned slowly, and sure enough there he was, a miniature dictator surrounded by his followers. Gohan almost laughed. They're just kids, children playing war. 

"Well if he's yours, you need to put him to work. I want off this rock." The boys who first stumbled across Gohan made a noisy exit, blasting trees as they moved.

"Let's go," Deacon said. "Ready to burn kiddies?" 

"Been burning, been fighting, ready to sleep," Tato said. A couple of the others chuckled their assent. 

When Deacon signaled for them to fly, Gohan flew. It was easier to follow than try to go his own way. It was easier to light the fires and stay with the group. Just a little energy and the majestic trees exploded into orange flames. Gohan threw himself into this new project. 

After a while, a half-asphyxiated Gohan decided that he liked the fires. The heat felt good against his skin, and the flames scoured the remains of the battle off the land. The cold detached shell allowing him to function grew stronger like clay heated in a kiln. Gohan watched the flames torture the forest, incinerating beauty and ugliness alike. The already bloating corpses from the war vanished with the other, smaller creatures in the wood. When the high-pitched ear-splitting trill, which called the half-breeds back to their transports, erupted into the night, Gohan was almost sad to leave. 

"What if the transports burned? We burned everything. I bet they burned," Gohan said. His voice didn't rise above a whisper, but Saijens have excellent hearing. 

"Transports don't burn. Been here, done this. They don't even get hot," Deacon said. "Let's find one before they start rounding up stragglers." 

"Time to go home," Gohan mouthed silently. "Home with the killers. Home with my brothers." 

* * *

Each transport was emptied and the groups of children were shuttled through an assembly line. First their soiled jumpsuits were tossed into the incineration waste. They were wetted, soaped, and rinsed. Then it was off to be sheared. Clean and bald, the children were issued new uniforms. 

"The important part comes next," Deacon said. He smiled and rubbed his neck where the first two slashes were carved. He looked down at Gohan. "I owe you a name, don't I."

Gohan paid little attention to Deacon's words. He couldn't stop looking at his hands. They hadn't looked so clean since his mom had scrubbed them last. But they weren't really clean. They were too red, still dirty. Gohan wished he could get back in line and wash them again. 

"You're strong, so you need a strong name, a name that won't mark you as an off-worlder. Something that demands respect." 

Gohan wished he had the strength or the confidence, to tell Deacon to shut up and forget it. He didn't need a new name. Gohan didn't need anything from him. 

"Name. What's your name?" an adult said. Gohan looked up, startled. The line had moved. 

Deacon pushed Gohan forward and said something to the adult who'd spoken. What did he say? Did he tell them his name? What name did he say? Gohan looked between the adult and Deacon. 

"Let me get your neck there then we'll get your name down," the adult said. With an efficient swipe he burned the line in Gohan's neck. When Gohan flinched and jerked away, the adult grabbed him by the throat and held on. "Now to get your name down." The adult used a finer tip of the same burning tool to write six Saijen letters across Gohan's forearm. "Move the line along now. No dawdling." 

Gohan touched the painful line on his neck and looked skeptically at his arm. He understood spoken Saijen really well but the written language wasn't quite as clear. "My new name." 

Deacon joined him and thumped him across the back. "It means annihilator." 

Gohan shook his head. He rubbed at the burned in letters. "I didn't want a new name. I don't even know how to say it." 

Deacon laughed, and for a change it didn't sound malicious or calculating. "I suspect you'll figure it out. Don't take any shit now." 

That was the last advice Deacon would get a chance to offer Gohan. The kids with three slashes in their necks were taken away. They weren't part of Diasheru anymore, and they would not be traveling with the children who were. 

It wasn't until he was sealed away in his dorm for the trip home that Gohan realized how alone he'd become. Whatever had happened to the other boys in Deacon's group, alive or dead, they weren't here. New fights had broken out across the expansive room by the time Gohan realized there wasn't anyone to stand in front of him and fight for him. 

It wasn't that Gohan didn't know how to fight, those lessons had been learned. He was just so tired, tired of inflicting pain and suffering, tired of having it inflicted on him. Without the boys who'd been in charge, without the Deacons of Diasheru, this fight had to happen. A new hierarchy had to rise. 

Staring at the battle, the chaos, Gohan felt his energy grow and swell. Once again the power in him didn't go to his brain. It didn't make him crazy. Gohan wouldn't let it. This time he held the energy and funneled it into a new pattern. Gohan's body transformed into a being unseen in the universe for more than a thousand years. Golden hair and blue eyes, he became power incarnate. 

Was he willing to follow another boy's rules? Was he going to play the same game he had witnessed in Deacon's group? No. "Starting today I make my own rules." With a howl of anguish, Gohan launched himself into the fight. 


	11. Igue and Reinyn

**

**

Chapter 10 - Igue and Reinyn 

  
  


Time is a funny thing. You can measure it in hours and seconds, days and weeks, centuries and millennia. For children time passes in events, birthdays and holidays, tiny tragedies and victories. Most children plot their lives by pet funerals, and spelling bee trophies. The half-breed children of Diasheru didn't measure their lives all that differently than other children. They lived from battle to battle, meal to meal, marking their time with a series of short slashes in their necks. 

* * *

A middle-aged woman looked out a small window at Vegeta's bright white skies. Not a Saijen, her brown hair hung limp past creamy pale shoulders. Her face was too broad and angular to be pretty, her frame too heavy and wide to be ladylike. Distractedly, she wiped at her eyes, large and violet, her only striking feature. Behind her, a small child, a boy, was scribbling on a piece of paper, drawing bubbly unreal creatures. 

"Igue? Come, now. Mommy has to talk to you angel," the woman said. She crossed to where her boy was coloring. He dropped his little pencil and looked up slowly. "Your daddy is coming today. You have to take a test. I want you to do your best." 

Igue shrugged. "Okay Mom, I'll do good." It wasn't a lie, exactly. He was going to do his best, like his mother asked, but he was pretty sure, no one would consider it good. 

His father, tall and solemn, didn't say a word to him, just ushered him out the door. Igue could hear his mother, crying as the door slid shut behind him. The long empty hallways seemed all two short because at the end he faced a panel of Saijens, old and cold. They stared down at him, sneered, and sent him away. Igue could still hear their laughter at the reading off their scouters. The moment they started laughing, he knew that he'd failed. 

Igue didn't kid himself that failure might mean returning to his mother. He was little not stupid. The test was supposed to decide where he went, to decide if he was strong enough to be a real Saijen like his dad. 

His father left him after he failed, not with just a word, but with a fist. Igue had embarrassed his father and his bloodline. Not bothering to spit the warm coppery blood out of his mouth, Igue tried not to panic. He wasn't completely without hope. Maybe Diasheru wouldn't be so bad? It was full of rejects, half-breeds who were judged too weak. There was a chance that he would survive, flourish even. They might consider him strong. 

Any illusions he harbored about being considered strong vanished in the face of his dormitory. They all seemed so big._ They're gonna pound me into a bloody pulp. _Igue wished he could go back in time and be stronger, strong enough to avoid this place, these children. 

"We got us a new baby, look at that," one of the boys said. He was bigger than most, with two slashes in his neck. "Let me have a turn with him, I'll get him on the straight and narrow." The clumps of kids turned to stare, but no one actually came after him. Igue moved back until he was pressed firmly against the wall. 

"Shut up, Dezie. You wouldn't want to bite off more than you can chew," a different boy said. He wasn't as big as the first boy, the mean one, but the children parted for him when he moved without challenge. Respect? More likely it was fear. "New kid, you got a name?" 

"Igue. My name is Igue." Was this guy going to pound him then? Igue knew what the neck slashes meant in Diasheru and this guy had two. He is going to pound me. 

"I'm Reinyn. You think you can beat me? Fair fight, one on one of course." The boy stopped advancing right in front of Igue. "I asked you a question. Can you beat me?"

"Maybe I could," Igue said. "If you want to fight, we'll find out."_ I won't disgrace my bloodline twice in one day. I'll put up a fight you won't expect. _

"You're going to have to fight today, but I don't much think I'm the one you should try first thing. See we have a nice little hierarchy in this dorm. You get to start at the bottom. If you want off the bottom, get stronger," Reinyn said. He jerked his head toward a group of smaller kids, none of which had any slashes in their necks. "Try learning from them. They're stronger than they look. Now if you step out and get in anybody's way. They have every right to put you back in your place. Trust me, you will get creamed. Keep your nose clean and your friends there will be the only ones beating on you." 

Igue stared at the boys he'd been told to join and craned his head back to look at Reinyn again. This wasn't how Diasheru was supposed to go. His mother used to tell him about this place all the time when he was little. The children fought like animals, the only hierarchy was one won with blood. She had been afraid that he was going to end up here. It wasn't like she told him she thought he was going to fail, but he could tell. Why hadn't they attacked him though? It was obvious some of them wanted to. 

"Hey Igue, welcome to bottom of the dung heap," one of the boys said. He wasn't big at all, scrawny was a good word for him. "That was my spot till today. I don't want it back either." 

Igue shrugged. "I get off the bottom if I beat you, right?" 

"Don't bet on it new guy," the scrawny boy said. "You can call me Heri." 

* * *

Days passed and Igue failed to see the dreaded Diasheru his mom warned him about. It was weird. They fought every day, almost all day, but they fought peers, equals. The strong didn't get a chance to kick around the weak. Igue gradually developed a theory about the difference between the Diasheru of his mom's stories and the dormitory he was living in. Instead of a dozen packs of boys, there was one source of absolute authority. Reinyn was the dictator of the room. No one crossed him. He set the rules and the rules were followed. That just led to the question of why. Why were they afraid of him? He wasn't big or even very intimidating. 

"Hey you, watch yourself." 

Igue turned to see who had spoken. He hadn't moved since the other kids in his little group finished pounding his face in for the day, so he was a bit surprised at attracting attention. It was Dezie, the boy who'd wanted to break him in on day one. "Sorry, I'll move." 

Apparently not interested in compliance, Dieze laughed harshly and grabbed Igue by the front of his jumpsuit. "I'll move you." He attacked, quickly, brutally. Dieze pummeled Igue's chest and kidneys. This was the Diasheru his mother told him about. Before Igue could plan a proper counterattack, the pounding was over, and Dieze dropped him. Igue moved his hands from in front of his head and came face to face with the reason there was absolute authority in this dormitory. 

Gold fire, energy, pulsed and flowed around Reinyn. His black hair was gone, replaced by golden tresses that danced in the energy playing over and through him. Igue's mouth dropped open and he moved away from the light display. Dieze wasn't moving though. He was glaring murderously at Reinyn. 

"How many times have we fought, Dieze? Wait, never mind, you don't count that high do you?" Reinyn said. 

"Today I'm gonna beat you," Dieze said. "Today you go down hard little boy. I'm tired of your pansy un-Saijen rules." 

"Beat me then, Dieze," Reinyn said. There wasn't any fear in that invitation, just a calm certainty. 

The other children gathered and watched. Some cheered for Reinyn, others simply watched the fight in silence. No one was willing to cheer for Dieze. Igue watched the fight with his emotions riding a roller coaster between fear and awe and disbelief. He'd never seen anything remotely like what was happening. Reinyn moved so quickly, Dieze couldn't even lay a hand on him. It was a joke, a game. Why doesn't he just end it? As if Reinyn had read his mind, he struck out. Two blows, and the psycho, Dieze, was prostrate. 

"What is he?" Igue asked. "That is not normal." 

"He glows like that when he's pissed. I figure it's related to his non-Saijen side. Nobody else here glows when they're pissed," Heri said. He rubbed his hands reflexively over his skinny forearms and stared at Reinyn. "You ever glow like that?" 

Igue shook his head. "I don't glow. He's really strong, huh. So why'd they send him to Diasheru? I didn't think they sent strong kids here." 

Heri shrugged. "His dad might have screwed up, got himself dishonored then all his half-breed kids would get sent here. He might even be from off planet." 

Why Reinyn was in Diasheru wasn't important to Igue. He was there, another half-breed, another reject. "I want to be that strong," Igue whispered. 

"We all do," Heri said. 

* * *

After watching Reinyn take down Dieze, Igue became somewhat obsessed with the dictator of their dormitory. He watched him whenever he could, what he ate, how he fought. Igue wished he could be close enough to actually hear him, to train with him. Not that that was ever likely to happen. 

"Hey Igue, you ready to fight?" Heri said. "You said you were going to beat me didn't you?" 

"Yeah, lets go." Igue grimaced when he pushed himself to his feet. He was bruised and tired, but he was getting stronger too. Heri, his sparring partner, was a paradox, small and skinny but damn hard to hit and even harder to hurt. It was difficult to believe that Heri was the weakest guy in the room outside himself. 

"Whoa, time out," Heri said. 

Igue frowned. "What? We barely got warmed up." 

"I think he's deferring to me." 

It couldn't be...Igue turned slowly until he was face to face with the object of his admiration, Reinyn. Why would he be playing at the bottom of the dung heap with the scraps? 

"Can you fly?" Reinyn asked. 

Igue couldn't quite comprehend what he was being asked at first. Could he fly? "No." 

"How about you Heri? You remember how to fly?" Reinyn asked. 

"Yeah, I remember," Heri said. "Want me to teach Igue?" 

"You keep training. I'll teach Igue," Reinyn said. "Come on, let's get somewhere out of the way where we can concentrate." 

Why did Reinyn want to teach him anything? Why the heck did he know Heri by name? "Yes, sir." Igue followed Reinyn away from the crowds of fighting children. 

"Sit down," Reinyn said. "I won't bite, so don't look so scared." Once they were seated facing each other, Reinyn continued. "You were born on planet, right? You're probably not real happy to be here." 

Igue shrugged. "No one wants to be weak. You let down your bloodline, and you deserve what you get." 

"You want to be strong, work hard. You have the potential. Every kid here has potential. I won't let the psychos beat you down while you learn. The thing I need to figure out today is, are you one of the psychos? Do I need to watch you, Igue?" 

"I don't need to beat anybody down, besides there isn't anybody wimpy enough here for me to attack if I wanted to," Igue said. 

"It won't always be that way, but I'll take you at your word." Reinyn took a deep calming breath. "Let's learn to fly." 

That night, long after his flying lessons were over, Igue lay in his bunk with his eyes shut. He had come closer to his leader, Reinyn, than he ever thought he would. The experience hadn't tarnished his image of the older boy. Rather it had enhanced it. The pedestal he had placed Reinyn on had grown taller and more austere. Igue opened his eyes and squinted into the pitch blackness. His hero was out there, somewhere sleeping. 

"I'm going to be that strong. Maybe stronger." Igue shut his eyes and remembered what it felt like to fly. He remembered the freedom of it, the pleasure. Sleep finally found him and he flew in his dreams. He flew and he glowed with a golden power. In his dreams he was stronger than even his own father. He was a real Saijen warrior. He didn't realize that the values and ideas he'd begun to consider those of a true warrior weren't recognized by Saijens as anything but weak. 


	12. Homeward Bound?

**

**

Chapter 11 Homeward Bound? 

  
  
__

Warm wind, humid and fragrant, flowed over and around a small green hilltop. A sea of blooming clover washed over the landscape in brilliant green and white. A tiny spot of crimson amidst the flora marked a little boy. On his hands and knees the little boy followed a frog hopping haphazardly down the little hill toward a small slow moving stream. 

"Gohan, you need to get back to your studies. Come on baby." 

"Awe Mom." Gohan shook his head and dropped backwards into the thick clover covering the hillside. The sun was high in the sky and he had to throw an arm over his eyes to keep them from burning. "I want to go fishing with Daddy," Gohan said. 

"You keep rolling in that clover and a big bumble bee is going to come after you," Chichi said. 

"A bee!" Gohan squealed. "Where?" 

* * *

Reinyn, a boy once known as Gohan, awoke into a world, not full of sun and family, but a cold dormitory, metal and plastic. He didn't carry the memory of his dreams with him. He faced his day without that crutch. Rolling out of bed with the morning lights was reflex, and Reinyn hit the floor wide-awake. Time to pair up and fight. 

With the strict hierarchy system, pairing up flowed quickly, and Reinyn located his usual partner with little effort. "Ready, Goven?" The other boy was taller and broader, but he was nowhere near as strong as Reinyn. Now came the repetitive, boring part, the actual fighting. 

Kick-block-thrust-punch-kick-kick-jump-punch-block-kick-fly-knee-block-punch-kick 

The dance of one-on-one fighting played out in a hundred ways, a hundred patterns across the dormitory of Diasheru. Like a carefully choreographed ensemble they moved, colliding, ricocheting, flying, and colliding again. This dance was old, familiar. Reinyn could have fought this battle in his sleep. 

It was hard not to think. Reinyn made a good effort at it though. Thinking was dangerous, distracting, painful. It was easier to just do his job, self-appointed zookeeper to this particular niche of Diasheru, and not ponder all the little things like the jackals masquerading as children that he had forced to play by his rules. His rules... that was a laugh. Reinyn didn't have any idea what the right thing to do was. He just tried to make sure the kids who weren't predators didn't get their brains pasted to the nearest wall. 

Maybe it wasn't completely fair, thinking of this place as a zoo, and the children as animals. They were just kids. Most of them didn't have any direction, or any idea about what was right and wrong. Most of them were pretty much okay, except when they got homicidal. A laugh started to bubble up in him, but he suppressed it. It was a Saijen trait, getting homicidal. Reinyn used to have illusions that he was different than his brothers, but he let those fantasies go, locked them away with other things that he couldn't bring himself to ponder, things like home and family...things like his name. 

"Time out, Reinyn. You win," Goven said. "I want to eat." 

Reinyn blinked past the sweat running into his eyes and nodded. Morning meal had arrived without him noticing. Thinking was entirely too distracting...better not to think. 

* * *

A man, a predator, crouched in the thick red sand of Vegeta, his only clothing, a tight pair of black pants. Taunt muscles stretched across an athletic back, while three suns beat down on the unprotected skin and baked rivers of sweat before they ever got the chance to properly run. In the distance, an almost invisible red cat rested just in the shade of an outcropping. The man moved forward gracefully, scooting over the sand on all fours. His prey, oblivious to its danger, yawned exposing a double row of razor sharp teeth. The man didn't even pause. With a shrill scream, hunter and prey collided in the sand. 

The battle was not a long one. The man ripped the head of the cat back, snapping its neck. With a chuckle, he tore into the beast's chest. Rather than try to penetrate the thick ribcage, the man worked his hand under the diaphragm and pulled a steaming red heart out. The man attacked the heart tearing at the tough muscle with his teeth. The thick red blood spilled over his chin and down his chest, drying rapidly. 

The silence of the moment was broken by the whine of engines and the arrival of a small metallic transport car. A pair of Saijens, one dressed in the armor of a warrior, the other dressed as a scout, emerged and approached the blood-splattered hunter. 

"We have a problem, sir," the scout said. He inclined his head respectfully. "Prince Vegeta, the situation on planet Zeta seven, known by its natives as Earth, has officially become embarrassing. Word has returned that the sixth executioner has fallen. The traitor Kagarrot lives." 

The other man nodded. "No one wants to take the seventh attempt. No volunteers this time." 

Vegeta dropped the half-eaten heart and smiled through the carnage dripping sluggishly off his face. "Maybe it's time I went and met this traitor, Kagarrot." 

"Nice sentiment, sir. Unfortunately, Frieza is expected, and soon. He will want to speak with you, if you're not here..." the scout trailed away nervously. The irritation growing behind his leader's eyes stopped him cold. 

"Frieza does not dictate my comings and goings. If I want to leave, I leave," Vegeta hissed. 

"We're quite aware of that, sir," the warrior said. "Nappa is next in line to deal with Frieza in your absence." 

"He doesn't have the sense to deal with a child, much less a galactic pirate." Vegeta wiped at his face and spat. "I see your point. I stay." One last wistful glance back to his fresh kill and Vegeta headed for the small transport. 

* * *

Clean and fully dressed in his warrior's armor, Vegeta looked far less wild and savage, at least as long as you didn't look into his eyes. Those black eyes might have well been back in the desert feasting on a wild cat. 

Seated at an ovoid table, in a long stark room with sloping arched ceilings, a mixture of warriors and scouts, all high ranking and respected bickered about strategies and incidents. Vegeta rapped harshly on the tabletop. "Order, if you please. I came to this unimportant little gathering to discuss one issue. Saijen honor. Saijen pride. If we could dispense with that business first?" Silence fell around the room immediately and no one seemed willing to broach the subject Vegeta had introduced. "How are we dealing with the traitor, Kakarrot?" 

"Execution." That word echoed slowly around the table. 

Vegeta felt his anger building at the incompetents in front of him. "I should be more clear. We failed to execute this traitor after six attempts. What is the problem, gentlemen?" 

"He is stronger than we first expected," one of the older warriors said. 

"More obvious information. Does anyone have a useful thing to say?" Vegeta snapped. He pushed his seat back violently and started pacing. 

The youngest man at the table, a scout and a half-breed by his clothing, touched the papers in front of him and looked cautiously toward the volatile prince. "Sir, my people have put together a profile from all the information we've gathered over the scouting mission and execution attempts on this traitor. According to our analysis, Kakarrot is emotionally involved with the indigenous lifeforms of his planet. While being life-mated with one of their females, he has fathered two sons that we are aware of. The first, we took per protocol on our first scouting mission. The second is still quite young, and none of the executioners have survived to bring him back. Kaggarot is angry over the loss of his son. It is an issue he broaches with each of his executioners." 

"At least its new information," Vegeta said. He stopped pacing long enough to look at the young Saijen who'd addressed him. "What's your name?" 

"Deacon, sir." 

"Well Deacon, with all this information, you must have come with a plan. Let's hear it." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and stared his challenge at the young Saijen. 

"We did devise a strategy sir," Deacon said. "Assuming child number one is still alive, he should be finishing his tenure in Diasheru. We pull him, gauge his abilities, and if he's somewhat strong we send him to fight Kaggarot. If Kaggarot knows it's his son coming at him, my people don't believe he'll be able to fight back." 

Vegeta's grin was cold, murderous. "I find that hard to believe. He is a Saijen." 

"I assure you, sir. A personality profile is rarely wrong. If he is able to fight, it would only be on a limited basis, defensive maybe," Deacon said. 

"The way I see it, you're sending the traitor reinforcements. What's to stop the child from changing sides?" one of the warriors said. 

Deacon laughed at that challenge and rose to his feet. "Please, you crank up the programming on a space pod and you could turn a floppy eared durnap into a murderous demon. That kid is going to kill everything that moves. When he comes face to face with our traitor, he'll just be another creature to shred." 

"I think you've hit on it, man. Send Diasheru. Let those animals overwhelm. Forget this complicated machination about father vs. son," an older scout said. 

"Find out if it, the child, is alive. There isn't anything else to discuss until we know that," Vegeta said. "You have two hours then I want an update." 

* * *

Deacon, young and ambitious, couldn't believe his luck. Rising quickly was something he'd become accustomed to. He worked at it, but pleasing the ever-moody Prince Vegeta on his first trip to a war council? That was unbelievable. This could make his career, if the kid were alive, if he were strong, if he managed to make the killing. There were still too many ifs. Hopefully, that was about to change. 

The building that housed the children of Diasheru hadn't changed in the five years since Deacon had moved on to bigger and better things. It was still stark and bright and perfect. It had been built to last. Deacon grinned nostalgically. He'd fought many a battle in those halls. He hadn't expected to ever see the inside of it again. 

Deacon stepped through into the dim interior and came face to face with the giant, Festag. Some things never changed. "Festag, friend, good to see you. It's Deacon. You remember me?" 

Festag stared blankly; his wide-set eyes showed no recognition. "No, sir. Should I?" 

"Bright as ever I see. I was one of your charges, Festag. Deacon? You don't remember." Deacon shrugged. "Never mind. I have orders now. Bring me all the off-world children with two slashes in their necks." 

Festag frowned and scratched his head. "All the children from off-world? How?" 

Deacon sighed and picked up a shiny silver gun apparatus. "The identification spheres?" 

"Oh," Festag said. "Of course, sir. I'll get them, sir." 

As the giant lumbered away, Deacon made himself comfortable in a nearby seat. This was going to work. 

* * *

Reinyn took a long moment to survey the battlefield in front of him, the children fighting and growing and learning. It was beautiful in its own way. They were almost like his kids. Sure, most of them weren't that much younger than him, and a lot of them were bigger, but he cared about most of them and he protected them. 

From his vantage point, floating above the melee, Reinyn was one of the first to see the door dilate open and admit Festag, their caretaker. He stared at the giant, puzzled. It wasn't a mealtime. The big Saijen looked frustrated. His thick fingers were punching hesitantly at something resting in his palm. A sudden smile spread over Festag's face and he held the device, a little chrome gun, up. 

Reinyn didn't see the invisible electromagnetic pulse, which spread instantaneously across the massive dormitory. The only mark of its passage, was the collapse of a handful of children. 

A sharp burning pain in the center of his back had Reinyn sucking in a desperate breath. An old wound he hardly even remembered was alive and hurting him then he was falling without control. Someone caught him and then he was on the ground. "I can't move!" he tried to shout. Reinyn could hear the other kids whispering, but he couldn't even signal to them. He could hardly breathe. 

"The ones who fell down. Bring me the ones who fell," Festag said. 

Reinyn had no way to know who pulled him up and carried him forward. There were two of them and they were small. His concentration was needed to force air past his lips. Every breath was an exertion like his chest was full of concrete. 

Festag looked at the necks of the children that were brought forward and all but two he left just inside the doorway. The two he kept, the ones with the correct number of slashes in their neck, went onto a small pile of children, stacked like logs on a floating platform. Reinyn's fight to breathe became decidedly more challenging with his face pressed into the back of another kid. "I'm going to die. Suffocate." It had been a long time coming to die so quietly and unimportantly. Hot frustration boiled inside him. "I wish I could scream." Black spots were swimming in front of his eyes and Reinyn started to feel sleepy. 

"Wake them up. Turn that thing off." 

Reinyn gasped and felt his body jerk. Sharp cramps and a burning sensation heralded the return of his limbs, but Reinyn embraced it. He wasn't the only one wiggling either. The warm bodies were moving under him, gasping for air, trying to rid themselves of the people atop them. 

"Okay kids, get yourselves under control and look here," Deacon said. 

Reinyn heard the command, but it was easier said than done. He still felt weak, and he was hopelessly tangled with what felt like a half dozen kids. "If you can fly, fly," Reinyn said. "Your legs feel like jelly? You still have energy, just fly." He offered the advice the moment it occurred to him. With a groan he used his energy to force himself up and out of the tangle he was wedged in. Gradually, the others followed suit. 

The man who'd been ordering them around was a scout. He was slouched in a chair grinning at their uncoordinated efforts. Reinyn frowned and squinted at the scout. He looked familiar...Deacon. 

"I'm sure you all feel wonderful. Don't worry your nervous systems should be back to normal pretty quickly. In the time being, I need to scan your backs. Most of you will be heading home momentarily," Deacon said. He picked up a device and pointed it at the line of slouching boys. Some flinched and looked away. Others snarled and took a step toward the scout who was threatening them. "I'm not going to shut you back down. I need to scan you for arrival dates. One of you just won the lottery." 

Reinyn seriously doubted anything good would come out of this encounter. Saijens didn't know the meaning of the word "good". Deacon was walking slowly along the row of boys, scanning and moving steadily on. He paused and scanned Reinyn twice. 

"We have a winner." Deacon turned to Festag and tossed the device he had been using at the giant. "You can put the rest of these guys back where they came from. I'll be taking..." He flipped Reinyn's arm instead of asking for his name. "Reinyn? My Reinyn?" He hadn't honestly even thought about the little kid he'd renamed since walking out of Diasheru. "We meet again. You seem to be doing okay for yourself." 

"I suppose I'm surviving," Reinyn said. He was watching the other boys being herded away by Festag, for the first time he wished he were going back there. The unknown evil was infinitely worse than the known. With a flinch, he massaged the sensitive spot on his back. "What was that thing? Why couldn't we move? And why was it just a few of us?" 

Deacon laughed. "Full of questions, are you? Don't you know you're not supposed to ask questions of your betters? I would imagine you've taken charge in Diasheru, and you're not used to deferring anymore. I remember you being strong, and I only knew you as a tiny runt." 

Reinyn sighed and glared up at Deacon. "I take it you won't be answering any questions." 

"We're old friends, and you're going to help me out so I'll answer your little questions. We have to walk though. You have an appointment," Deacon said. He stepped briskly out the circular door and into the intense midday sun. Reinyn flinched and shaded his eyes. This was his first trip into the actual Vegetan sun since his arrival. It was so bright that it hurt. "To answer your question, we shut down most of your neuromuscular junctions with a failsafe device injected in all off-world half-breeds upon their arrival on Vegeta. You understand that, or you need it explained to you?" 

"I'm not an idiot," Reinyn said. 

"No? You're one of the few then," Deacon said. 

"What do you want from me? Where are we going?" Reinyn asked. He was curious about his fate, but he was also concerned about what was happening in his dormitory. Without him there, the jackals he'd held in check would let out their pent up rage on the weakest of the kids. There would probably be a serious mess to clean up when...if he got out of this. 

"You need to show your Prince how strong you can be," Deacon said. He looked over his shoulder and grinned. "You are feeling normal again? Steady?" 

"I feel like new, really," Reinyn said. 

Deacon couldn't keep a vicious ambitious grin off his face. This couldn't have worked out any better. His plan was looking more and more promising every moment. The traitor's son was alive, and if memory served, strong as Hell. There wasn't any hesitation in his heart. He was planning to send a boy to kill his father, and all he could think was how impressive it was going to be when he made commander before his twentieth year. 


	13. A Dish Best Served Cold

**

**

Chapter 12 A Dish Best Served Cold 

  
  


Commander Turnitz, the same hard angular woman who more than five years earlier took control of Diasheru, stared murderously at her senior officer, a graying sneering pig of a Saijen. Her hair was longer, nearly brushing her shoulders and her face bore the beginning of lines around her mouth and eyes. "Manning Diasheru is a five-year appointment. As I calculate, my transfer is long overdue." 

"Some things were meant to be," the pig said. He snorted and leaned forward violating Turnitz's personal space. "You've posted some of the best survival statistics for those animals on the books. Why change a good thing? Must be your latent maternal instincts." 

"Maternal instincts," Turntiz howled. "I haven't done anything babysitting those freaks that my predecessors didn't do. You stupid myopic..." 

"This isn't about the rules and regulations, Turnitz. It isn't about those animals. It is about you. You have a responsibility, woman, three children before you're past childbearing age. If you'd used this opportunity properly, you could have had you're damn transfer. The only way you're getting out now is through maternity leave." 

"This isn't fair." Turntiz regretted that statement the moment it passed her lips. She saw the laughter in her senior officer's eyes. Any chance of winning her argument was gone with that one simple slip. Of course it wasn't fair. Playing fair was un-Saijen. 

Down the long halls to her quarters, Turnitz replayed the confrontation with her superior, but she couldn't find a way around his decision. They weren't letting her back into the field. This was the end of the line. It was Diasheru or the maternity ward. Well it wasn't going to be the maternity ward. Turnitz was not going to end up like her mother, nothing but her children and no one to give a damn when she was eliminated. 

Once inside her bedroom, Turnitz let herself vent some frustration. She threw her head back and screamed. Not satisfied, she grabbed an oblong irregular glowing crystal and flung it at her floor to ceiling mirror. Glass rained down, tinkling and glittering in the remaining bluish lighting. 

"Not a satisfying meeting?" 

Turnitz turned to face her long-running dalliance, Calso. He was still beautiful, still exotic with his light colored hair and pale eyes. He wasn't exciting anymore though, and he definitely wasn't the softie she'd first pegged him for. 

"Since when do you just come into my private quarters without an invitation?" Turnitz growled. "I don't like your tone either. Get out!" 

"I will get out. If I don't get some fieldwork in, I'll never get promoted. My transfer came through. Just thought you should know," Calso said. "Good luck with the kiddies." 

Turnitz felt blood rushing in her head. How dare he dismiss her? How dare he walk away? He was just like the rest of them. Would she let him go? "I could kill him. He isn't so strong, not even a full blood." 

"Is he worth it?" Squax, the other man in Turnitz's life, the only constant in her life, was sitting in the hallway nonchalantly as if he spent every night there. 

How much had he heard? "Am I being followed? Does everyone want a chance to gloat," Turnitz hissed. 

Squax shrugged. "You know me better than that. I came to warn you. High command just sorted through Diasheru and nabbed one of your kids. If you want back in the thick of things, you might want to find a way to the upcoming war council. Seems like an opportunity to me." 

High command? War council? Turnitz grinned. "You're a miracle worker. My hero." 

Squax held up his hands and smiled slyly. "Not arguing." Then his commander was gone, chasing her career. If he had any sense, Squax would be transferring his own way out, following Calso's lead. Turnitz was in a downward spiral. He should cut his losses. It was un-Saijen to stay. Squax came to his feet and coded the commander's door shut. Who was he kidding? Commander Turnitz needed him, even if she hadn't realized it yet, and he liked being there for her.

* * *

A little dark box, a detention room without windows, Deacon wanted to pace its short floor to scream for a superior, but he held those impulses in check. Whoever had orchestrated this delay was probably watching. Even if they weren't Reinyn was. It was better to keep his cool. Deacon watched the time until the war council slip away and his control began to falter. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting." A woman came through the door and crossed her arms over her chest challengingly. 

Deacon stared at the middle-aged commander blocking his path and he almost laughed. "If it isn't Commander Turlap, or was it Tonitz?" 

"Turnitz, you little genetic mishmash. I outrank you so I suggest you change the tone." A half-breed should know better than to speak to a full Saijen like that, much less one that outranked him. Had everyone on Vegeta learned of her shame? 

"If I don't return to the war council in approximately fifteen minutes, you'll have to explain my tardiness to Prince Vegeta, Commander," Deacon said. 

"I suspect he won't look terribly hard for a low-ranking half-breed," Turnitz said. She already had the leverage to tag along with this expedition by the simple fact of the delay she could cause. Did she want to tag along though? What was the plan? 

"I don't have time for games. What do you want?" Deacon spat. 

"I own that." She pointed to the silent half-breed standing a step behind Deacon. "I think I might want to be a part of this plan." 

Reinyn sat back and listened to the two scouts snarl at each other. He was stuck in the middle of something worth squabbling over then? _His_ Commander Turnitz wanted to benefit from _it_, whatever _it_ was. Reinyn couldn't look at that woman without bile rising in his throat. Hate was a long lasting emotion and his was still fresh for this particular Saijen. She embodied the evil, the sadistic-murderous tendencies of Saijens. Silently, he prayed that Deacon would manage to extricate the Commander from this mess. The prospect of spending any time with Turnitz positively made Reinyn ill.

* * *

Reinyn didn't feel intimidated by the long room full of Saijens, which Deacon brought him to. He didn't find these men's angry glares or shiny armor imposing. The cold hate in him wouldn't leave room for anything else. It had been a long time since he'd been this overwhelmed by emotion. Turnitz was still here, and she just seemed to bring out the worst in him. 

"So this is it? Does it have any strength to it?" Vegeta said. Not bothering to conceal his boredom, he barely stifled a yawn. 

Reinyn met the prince's disinterested gaze head on. Deacon claimed he needed to impress the prince. The prince was small for a Saijen...like me. Reinyn felt a tiny spark of kinship between himself and this man. He was tempted to do as Deacon asked, to do his best to impress this prince. If only it didn't entail helping Turnitz. 

"He is quite strong, particularly for a half-breed, sir," Deacon said. "Check your scouter. I don't think you'll be disappointed." 

Vegeta snorted and slipped the rose tinted eyepiece into place. Strong for a half-breed wasn't saying much. What had possessed him to entertain this pointless dead end plan? Maybe he wanted to see the child of the traitor who had survived six warrior Saijen executioners? Maybe. Vegeta's gaze slid around the room, his scouter spitting out familiar readings. Finally, he leveled his gaze on the half-breed. A frustrated growl erupted from Vegeta and he pulled the device off. "Stupid technology." It had to be broken. There were too many zeros behind that number. 

"Scouter on the fritz? Well we can do a low tech demonstration," Deacon said. He could see distraction and general disinterest was spreading around the room. "Who to fight, though?" Deacon scanned the room nervously. He needed someone credible, but not too strong. 

"Commander Turnitz. You want me to fight for you? I'll fight her," Reinyn said. He shouldn't have spoken, shouldn't have said anything, but he couldn't resist the temptation. 

Vegeta almost smiled at the offer from the half-breed. He proposed a fight with a full Saijen. She was a lowly scout, but did he really think he could win? It would be a quick interesting way to end this little parody of a plan though. The shocked expression on the challenged woman's face was almost worth the waste of time. "It wants to fight? Let's watch then, while it fights," Vegeta said. A hateful grin spread over his face. 

* * *

A simple white circle bounded a small ring, barely twenty feet wide. There was no padding or safety measures. Bright white lights shone down from a vaulted ceiling. The room was not an arena by any stretch of the imagination. There were no seats for spectators, or even any room for a crowd. This room was about the battles, not entertainment. 

Turnitz stared across the ring at the child who'd challenged her. Silent and calm, he smiled at her like a cat smiles at a rat. He seemed so aloof, entirely too confident. "Little brat is trying to freak you out," Turnitz hissed. She turned away. This had not gone as planned. Instead of profiting from association with a successful plan, she was a hurdle to that plan's fruition. With a groan, she dropped down into a squat and bounced, stretching her leg muscles. She pressed her hands against the cool metal floor and took a deep breath. A hundred Saijens had bled on this floor, probably more, but none had left a trace behind. Do I bleed here today? The weak doubter's words didn't escape her lips. She wasn't that freaked out. Turnitz, daughter to Davrok and Para, was born to fight. Today she would live up to her heritage. A calmness settled over her, and this time when she turned to face her foe, she didn't need to turn away from his cocky smile. 

Reinyn had no thoughts for the location of the upcoming duel. His entire attention was focused on the angry middle-aged woman quietly working the kinks out of her muscles. This fight was one he'd dreamed of, prayed for. She was finally going to pay for blood she'd heaped on his hands. If it cost him another piece of his soul to buy that revenge, so be it. At least this time he chose who he killed. 

Reinyn watched Turnitz rise from her stretching exercises. Time to impress the prince? "Ready or not, Commander, here I come." Not a singsong chant, the words were monotone. Reinyn might have been a child, but he wasn't playing a game. "Would you like to see a trick I learned, Commander?" 

Turnitz stared puzzled. "A trick? I'm here to fight. This was your idea child." 

"I know you probably haven't tried to sense an energy level in your life, you with you're your scouters, your crutches. You were born with the ability to see the energy of your opponent, though. Tell me Commander, if you see this." Gohan summoned the energy living inside him. First a faint tingle, then a blue hot flame, he embraced it, allowed it to flow into his limbs down his fingers and out over his skin. He stockpiled the energy until it was flowing from the strands of his hair. He held the energy until he felt it would surely tear him apart. In the last moments, before the power would have destroyed its creator, everything changed. The energy remade Reinyn in its own image. It obliterated his black hair and eyes, turning them blonde and blue respectively. His small fist rose slowly. "I'm ready to fight, Commander. Are you?" 

Turnitz felt the transformation that played out in front of her as clearly as she saw it. That was death staring at her. She raised her chin and dropped into a fighter's crouch. "You wanted to fight me, child. Fight then." 

Vegeta felt as though his world were ending. A boy, a worthless half-breed, was standing before him, golden and empowered. Not everyone in this room knew what was happening, the miracle they were witnessing. A half-breed could not be a super Saijen. It was not possible. Vegeta felt his nails digging into the palms of his hands._ If I kill it, it never happened. I'll kill it._ Another moment and there would never have been a fight between Turnitz and Reinyn. Vegeta would have stepped in, but the moment passed and the scheduled fight began. 

Reinyn didn't fly at his opponent. He waited for her to come to him. She was physically bigger than him, and technically a full Saijen, but she felt so small and weak. Turnitz didn't make him wait for long. Like a proud Kamikaze, she flew at her enemy. Reinyn could barely contain his laughter. She was so slow. Without raising a hand, he avoided her every attack. "You aren't very good at this commander. I would suggest you try harder." 

Turnitz screamed at the top of her lungs, and attacked again. How dare he treat her like that? How dare he treat her like an underling, a nothing? This time her attack was pure hate, not coordinated or even thought out. Instead of fists, she attacked with her hands curled into claws, a clear image of scratching the child's eyes from his sockets stamped on her mind's eye. 

Reinyn caught her hands, and laughed at her wild attempts to kick and bite. At such close proximity the blows landed, but it wasn't like there was anything to back them up. "You know, I was scared of you. I thought you were going to kill me, maybe you should have tried, while I was still small and weak and scared. You see, I'm really not scared of you anymore, but I do hate you." 

Turnitz screamed again. "Kill me then, if you have the guts." 

Reinyn smiled and cocked his head to the side. "Have no fear, Commander. You taught me very well. Not how to fight, I learned that without you. You did teach me how to kill, though. I'll show you." He pulled Turnitz close, almost like he wanted to kiss her. It wasn't a kiss he offered her though. With one hard thrust of his head, Reinyn jabbed the delicate bones of Commander Turnitz's nose into her brain. Her lifeless body crumpled into a heap at his feet and he kicked it. Reinyn laughed again. He wasn't even aware of the tears streaming down his face. "See, Commander?" Reinyn looked up from his latest kill and turned a slow circle, looking for the Prince. Was his audience impressed? The energy he had flaunted faded back and his body returned to normal. Were they impressed? 

Vegeta had been given enough time to consider the being in front of him. His initial blood lust had faded and the Prince found himself faced with a dilemma: Kill it or use it? A simple question, made infinitely difficult, by one fact. If this creature could become a Super Saijen, any Saijen could. If he were to train with this abomination... 

Reinyn looked down at what he'd done. He felt pain shooting though his head, and fresh tears building behind his eyes. What was wrong with him? He was not going to cry, not here, and not now. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd killed someone. It was the first time he made that choice for himself, though. No one told him to make this killing. He chose. She deserved it. Didn't she? 

"You were very impressive, half-breed," Vegeta said. He had moved into the ring. A wild hard look flashed in his black eyes. With a single well placed kick, he launched Turnitz's corpse into the wall. "I don't feel comfortable letting you walk out of here." 

"You want to fight me now?" Reinyn said. "You're the Prince of Saijens. Why would you fight a child half-breed?" 

Vegeta couldn't believe that the child didn't realize his threat. This powerhouse was the reason half-breeds were equipped with fail-safes. He was dangerous. "I don't want to fight you. I want to kill you." Using Freeza's blasted technology, cheating and activating the fail-safe was not in Vegeta's nature. 

Reinyn took a deep breath and nodded. Live or die? It was question he asked himself on a daily basis. "Okay, but I'm still not ready to die." 


	14. The Dissasociation of Heaven and Hell

****

PART III In Heaven 

  


Son Gohan... ...Reinyn 

__

The first time I saw Gohan, I didn't recognize him. He was wearing my face, but I hadn't seen that in so long it didn't matter. I had no idea what lay ahead or even where I was. Alive or dead, in Heaven or Hell, all I wanted was a chance to breathe. 

****

Chapter 13 The Disassociation of Heaven and Hell 

  
  


Back in the future, the real time line, in heaven... 

A single bright spot glowed on a black world. Goku shifted closer to the roaring fire around which the dead fighters had gathered. He could just see Pikon's serious green face through the flames. The long dark night had expanded unbroken by morning, and everyone was growing restless. 

"So the universe really ended?" a tall blonde fighter said. He tossed another piece of wood into the fire sending sparks dancing up and away. 

Goku shrugged. "It seems sort of sudden. I figured there would be some warning, maybe an attempt to prevent that much destruction." 

"You would think the Kai's would have had some warning," Pikon agreed. "They always have had warnings and signs in the past." 

"The universe almost ended before?" Goku asked. His eyes were as big as saucers and he leaned forward expectantly. "The Earth, or even the Galaxy being threatened...but the universe?" 

Pikon nodded. "Twice since I've been dead." Several of the other dead fighters nodded, while other less experienced fighters gasped and exchanged shocked looks. "I take it you would like to hear about it?"

* * *

Elsewhere in the afterlife, the four Kai's sat together around a small chrome table, a solemn conclave of short oddly colored Gods. East Kai wiped a nervous tear off her cheek and tried not to fidget. "Do we know what happened to the universe?" she asked. 

North Kai shook his catfish-esque blue head. "King Yemmah stopped receiving souls after the phenomenon that appears to have blotted out the universe, so not only can we not see or interact with the universe, the dead can't reach their proper resting place." 

"And we can't ask the dead what happened," west Kai said. He slammed his fist down. "If the universe truly ended, we'd be flooded with souls." 

"In this case, I'd say no news is good news. If we were flooded with souls to tell us how the universe ended, then the universe would be gone. This disassociation, or whatever it is, we can maybe fix," South Kai said. 

"I suppose the question then, is what do we do about this, separation?" North Kai said. 

"We end it," a gruff voice announced. An older man with wild white hair and opaque black shades had stepped into the limited lighting around the Kais. 

The Kai's gasped in unison. He might have looked like a member of ZZ Top, but the assemblage of Gods recognized the Grand Kai when he dropped by. That wasn't the last surprise either. Their exalted guest wasn't alone. Pale pink skin with a thick white mane of Mohawk style hair, their other visitor looked more like a teenager than a deity. He wasn't just anyone though, as he established with his greeting. 

"Hello, you may call me Shin, or Supreme Kai." 

North Kai knew his mouth was dangling open, but he couldn't seem to shut it. The Grand Kai, that was an unusual high-class visitor, but a Supreme Kai? Naturally the Kais were aware of the existence of Supreme Kais, but as a rule they didn't mingle with, well anyone. The afterlife losing all contact with reality apparently got attention all over. "Sirs, Supreme Kai, Grand Kai, it is an honor," North Kai said. He stumbled over the words, gesturing ineffectually. 

"You needn't bother with formalities. Under the circumstances, I fear it is a waste of time," Shin said. "I would like you to meet my companion, Oney. She monitors several time streams for kinks, irregularities and disruptions." Shin pointed to the dimly lit conference table. "There." 

A tiny being, around three inches tall was standing with her chin high and her back straight. Neon pink hair was pulled into a severe bun, and purple eyes stared out through thick, black-framed glasses. She straightened her knee length skirt and fluttered a pair of iridescent pink wings. "Gentlemen, ladies, we are dealing with an extra timeline. This anomaly is forcing the true timeline out of alignment." Oney's voice was high, loud and clear, despite her size. 

"How do you know that?" North Kai asked. He leaned closer trying to catch a better look at Oney. 

"It is my job to know. Unfortunately, the disjunction is so severe that I wasn't able to peer into the living world and find the cause of the duplication. Frankly, I couldn't even get a good pinpoint on the moment of disjunction." She squinted and made a twisting motion with her hands. "The entire system was twisted too severely." 

"So you've come here to fix this?" West Kai said. 

"I have to find out what happened before we can untangle this mess," Oney said. Shin nodded and took a seat amongst the Kais. "She came to me first. I have the ability to transport myself instantaneously across any distance, but I was not able to reach reality." 

"You win some, you lose some on to plan B," Oney said. "What we need is a connection, a strong one, with the living world, something that this disassociation didn't sever." She fluttered her delicate wings and began pacing along the edge of the table 

"We're Kais. We have strong connections with the living world, or we did," North Kai said. Initial nervousness seemed to have fled, now that they were trying to tackle the problem at hand. 

"What about the recently deceased? They might know something," South Kai offered. "They were in the living world right before this happened." 

North Kai shook his head and sank a little lower in his seat. "Thought of that already. King Yemmah wasn't able to get anything out of the last of the recently deceased. Everything seemed normal to them before their deaths, well, relatively so." 

"The recently deceased," Oney said. She stared contemplatively upwards. "Is there any way I might speak with one of those spirits?" She didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, but she might be able to use such a spirit. Delicate connections remained between spirits in the afterlife and those they loved in life. Perhaps such connections had survived the disassociation. 

"There's a good deal of paperwork involved with disturbing a spirit after it's been processed and sent to its home in the afterlife," West Kai said. 

"But there aren't any bureaucratic hoops to jump through to interact with a warrior of the dead," North Kai said. "I have a new one, Goku. He's not quite recently deceased. It has been nearly four months." 

West Kai glared across at his brother. How dare he buddy up to the Supreme Kai's friend like that? Crisis or no crisis, this was a golden opportunity to network. "If you'd let me finish, I was going to say that King Yemma would probably understand rushing us through considering the circumstances." 

Shin looked between the brothers and tried not to show his confusion at their competitiveness. You would think they'd be more rattled with the state of affairs. "This warrior should suffice for what Oney wants to check." 

The little professional, Oney, grinned. "You see where I'm going with this? Impressive, Shin. You are a sharp one." 

South Kai leaned over to East Kai and whispered in her ear, "I think the big guns are going to fix things." She nodded and didn't even try to contain her relief at having the responsibility for this rather large crisis shifting onto the deity powerhouses. 

* * *

Goku stared at the pale librarian-fairy on his palm. "You want to do what?" 

"It's simple. I want to explore your soul a bit, try to find some intact emotional connections to the living world," Oney said. She pushed her glasses up and waited expectantly. "You'll hardly feel a thing." 

"Oh okay. This is to help fix the universe? It didn't get destroyed then." Goku said. "Right?" 

"Yes. You're going to help me fix the universe," Oney said. 

A generous grin spread across Goku's face. "Well explore away. Is there anything I can do to help?" 

Oney's wings fluttered to life, moving so quickly that they were visible only as blurs behind her. A tiny glow started at her chest and spread over her. She flew up until she was eye level with Goku. "Choose someone you loved, someone you had a strong bond with, and think of them for me. No switching around. Choose a strong bond and stick with it." 

Goku nodded. He loved a lot of people who were still on Earth, still living. There were his friends, Krillin, Master Roshi, heck even Piccolo. His wife Chichi and his new son were still living. There really wasn't a debate though. The strongest bond he shared with anyone alive was that with his oldest son. He'd touched his son from the afterlife before, guided his hand in battle. Goku shut his eyes and remembered what it had felt like to touch his son's spirit. Making contact with life from a state of death, it had been a beautiful but painful experience, like staring at the sun. 

Oney didn't warn Goku when she began her examination. She blinked her eyes, both the physical ones, and the ones that could see the spirit of life, the ones which watched over time. Oney's body was tiny, but her spirit could not be contained in a room or even a single planet. 

Goku felt Oney's probe for only a moment. It was like falling asleep, you don't realize it's happening then you're gone. 

__

Goku breathed deeply, the smell of water, grass, and sweat. He was home, sitting on riverbank with the sun warming his face and reflecting off the clear swift water. Goku heard a squeal to his side and he smiled. "Gohan, what are you doing?" 

Little Gohan had his Dragonball hat tilted to the side and he was staring into a box of worms. His face scrunched up as he barely touched one of the wriggling nightcrawlers. "They're icky Daddy," Gohan said. 

"Let me show you. We're going to catch a huge fish," Goku said. 

Goku breathed out and he was back in the afterlife, surrounded by a half dozen varieties of Kais and three times that many dead warriors. "Well, how'd it go?" Goku asked. 

Oney shrugged and came to land in front of Goku. "I've never had to deal with anything like this before. The connection was intact, but because the timeline's doubled, it would be foolish to try and follow the connection back into the living world. They didn't teach us a procedure to deal with this when I was training." 

Shin dropped down to one knee and smiled encouragement at Oney. "We will handle this. What have we learned?" 

"Nothing really," Oney said. "I think we should try to bring the little boy, Goku was focusing on here. We'll probably get two of him, but maybe between them we can figure out what's going on." 

"You can do that?" Goku said. His face lit up and he slapped his hands together. "I never even got to congratulate, Gohan on defeating Cell. It would be great to see him." 

Oney nodded. "I think we can manage it, with a little help from the Supreme Kai." 

"I am at your disposal, Lady Oney," Shin said. He offered her his hand for a perch. 

"Let's get cracking," Oney said. She pulled the central pin out of her gradually disintegrating bun and let her eye-popping pink hair spill down her back. She folded her glasses and tucked them into a pocket. "This will be quite different from my last probe. Follow my lead." 


	15. Father and Son

**

**

Chapter 14 Father and Son 

  
  


Gohan plopped down in a large patch of clover. It wasn't quite early enough in the summer for it to be in bloom, but the healthy green shoots still felt great underneath him. No blooms meant no aroma or more importantly no bees. This was his hill, the place he played and ran when he was a little boy. The stream where he would fish and swim was barely visible at the base of the hill behind the crush of vegetation that naturally follows a relatively constant water supply. 

His mom had sent him out for a short break from his studies, but the sound of the water was enticing. "Maybe a medium sized break? I haven't been swimming in a million years." Gohan rose quickly and started down the bank. Standing at the edge of the water, he began unbuttoning his shirt. 

"Gohan? Going swimming?" 

Gohan froze. That couldn't be... "Dad?" It was him though, grinning like, well, only he could. "What are you doing here?" The halo was in place, so he wasn't technically back from the dead. "I have to get Mom. She'll flip." 

Goku placed a hand on Gohan's shoulder and shook his head. "I'm sorry. We won't be here that long. We need your help in the afterlife." 

Gohan frowned and started to ask what he was needed for, but a heavy sensation dropped him to his knees. He felt like the world was spinning, and then he was falling. 

Goku stared at the spot where Gohan had been and waited to be pulled back, but it didn't happen. "Hey, you guys just leaving me here?" Goku called. 

__

"Keep trying. You have to get the other one too. Two timelines, remember?" 

Goku recognized that disembodied voice. "I'll try Oney." With a sigh, he shut his eyes and tried to focus on the moments that had brought him and Gohan the closest. He could see himself fighting with his son, training. Goku tried thinking about a thousand little things, but nothing was happening. He opened his eyes and took a seat by the stream. Almost instantaneously, the world flashed white. Goku blinked his eyes until he could see again. "Gohan?" Not the teen who'd just greeted him, this time Gohan was tiny, peering wide-eyed at a little tin full of worms. 

"They're icky, Daddy," Gohan said. Goku reached out and touched his young son. 

The world flashed again, but this time it didn't reform into the stream bank behind his home. Goku found himself in a small dim room. He was pushed against a wall behind a small group of men dressed in Saijen armor. Goku made his way through the crowd, all the while scanning for Gohan. Where on Earth? Finally, he made his way to the front and found his son. 

Two exhausted combatants stared at each other from opposite sides of a small ring. Gohan, the fighter who was still standing, was covered in blood. His blonde hair and blue eyes marked the transformation to super-Saijen. The other man, Vegeta, seemed to be in worse shape, gasping for breath and on his knees. "Gohan?" Goku called. "Gohan, it's Dad." At first Goku thought maybe Gohan couldn't hear him, but his son turned slowly. Goku flinched at the look Gohan leveled him with. There was so much anger and fear and white hot pain. 

The world seemed to slow down for Reinyn. No one had called him Gohan, in a long, long time. It could not be his father. Were they trying to distract him? How could they know that language though? No. His father was dead. The only way his father would ever have left him behind would have been because he was dead. If he wasn't dead...Reinyn had a few questions for him if he wasn't dead. 

"I don't have time to explain, or to ask you all the questions that are coming to mind." Goku advanced quickly toward his son. "The universe needs your help." He reached out and grabbed Gohan's arm. He could feel the blood there under his fingers sticky and hot. Abstractly he wondered if that blood belonged to Gohan, or Vegeta. 

Goku could see Vegeta rising out of the corner of his eye. The crowd was shouting something too, but Goku couldn't understand what they were saying. Oney came through before he got a chance to find out what it all meant, what was going to happen. There was a heavy lurching and the world melted away only to reform into the afterlife. It was still dark except for the scattered artificial lights and the halos. Goku looked down at Gohan, well the Gohan he'd pulled out of the fight. "Gohan, look here. Are you okay?" 

Reinyn pushed away from Goku and spun slowly, trying to figure out what had happened. "Don't touch me, and stop calling me Gohan. Reinyn is my name." There were too many strong fighters here, and nowhere it seemed to hide. "Where did you take me?" It felt strange listening to this language, talking in it. The sound was almost melodic, too high pitched and chirpy. 

"You don't want me to call you Gohan?" Goku asked. He couldn't keep a bewildered expression off his face. "But your name's Gohan." 

"Don't fight it," Oney said. She came to light on Goku's shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest. "Obviously the timelines are very messed up. Just look at the two of them." 

Goku could see his sons and was forced to agree. The Gohan he'd picked up from beside the stream was neat, calm, in control. This other Gohan, Reinyn, was wild, scared, dangerous. "Now what?" Goku asked. He wanted some time to talk with Reinyn, to find out what had hurt him and make it better. He hated the look in his eyes. 

"Now we solve this mystery," Oney said. She took flight and headed toward Reinyn. "Okay kid. Let's hear it. Tell me your life story. 

"Stay away from me," Reinyn shouted. The energy in him flared. "I'll hurt you." 

Gohan had been trying to get caught up on the crisis in the universe, since his dad had zapped him into the afterlife. He'd only been there for a few minutes, but he had a pretty decent picture of how things were going. As a result he hadn't been totally surprised to see himself appear with his dad. Instead he was incredibly curious. What set the two of them apart? Were they the same person or had their lives been so dissimilar that they would be unique? 

Any question about being the same person was short lived. The other Gohan didn't even want to be called Gohan. Then energy flared from Reinyn and Gohan flinched. That was a trait they shared, power. Instinctively, Gohan reached out to try and calm Reinyn. "Hey, she's just trying to help. She isn't dangerous or anything," Gohan said. He took several steps toward the confused boy. 

Oney flew back away from the flare of power and settled on Goku's shoulder. "You never said your son had any violent tendencies. I think he wants to zap me." 

"Hey, he's just confused," Goku said. "Cut him some slack and give him some space." 

"Fine you try talking to him," Oney said. She threw her hands up and turned back toward Reinyn. Gohan was standing there next to him, reaching out. "Hey! No touching. Isn't the timeline screwed up enough!" 

Unfortunately, Oney was too late with her caution. Gohan's fingertips brushed the shoulder of Reinyn. He jumped back as soon as the warning registered, but it was too late. The damage had been done 

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Oney hissed. "This is my fault. Should have mentioned this possibility. I'll fix it. Just have to stay calm." Her twittering wings bellied her resolve to remain calm. "How do you feel boys?" 

Gohan looked at the hand he'd touched Reinyn with. It felt numb and the numbness was spreading up his arm. "I feel weird," Gohan whispered. 

Reinyn was rubbing at his shoulder and back. He growled low in his throat. "What did you do? I'll hurt you too!" 

Gohan would have apologized, but the numbness was spreading too quickly. He couldn't speak, couldn't move. He was falling. 

The moment he saw Gohan and Reinyn start to collapse, Goku headed forward. "Gohan." 

"Freeze. No one touch those two!!" Oney screamed. "They're a temporal disaster waiting to happen. Let things settle. Back away from the Gohan's." 

As a group, the Kais had taken a step back from the situation at hand and left the more qualified to solve this crisis. West Kai snorted his disgust at the half-controlled chaos he was watching. The short pastel God turned and stared hard at Oney. "You really don't have any idea what you're doing, do you? Totally incompetent." 

"I have you know, I'm quite well thought of in the temporal reviewer's office. This is a freakish incident that should never have happened," Oney snapped. 

Goku wasn't listening to the various deities squabble about the rapidly deteriorating situation. He was watching his son or sons. At first he thought maybe Oney had been overreacting, he thought he saw Gohan move. Maybe he was getting up? Goku was wrong though. His son hadn't moved. Something was happening. One moment he could see Gohan and Reinyn lying close to one another, the next they were less distinct like they were a wet painting and someone had drawn their thumb through the paint. "Someone help them. What's happening?" Goku shouted. 

Oney turned from the argument she was having and flinched. "I've never actually seen this happen. A bit of advice, if you should ever find yourself from a different timeline, play it safe and don't touch." Above where the boys had fallen a black vortex, no larger than a nickel had begun to swirl and grow. The larger it became, the less distinct Gohan and Reinyn appeared. "They're okay, I swear." 

"Oh and we should trust you, you're never wrong," West Kai declared. "Time watchers are all a bunch of useless bureaucrats." 

Oney watched as Gohan and Reinyn faded entirely from view. "No really. This could be a good thing, a little risky but a fast solution to our problem. Temporal hurricane. I'll just have to locate them afterwards. It won't be so hard." 

Goku stared at the growing vortex where his son had been a few moments ago. It was almost as big as a hula-hoop and appeared to be stabilizing. He didn't like the sound of Oney's reassurances. Maybe he shouldn't have done what she wanted? Gohan was in danger and they didn't appear to have made any progress toward fixing the universe. "If I weren't already dead, Chichi would kill me." 


	16. The Eye of the Storm

**

**

Chapter 15 The Eye of the Storm

  
  


Goku approached the swirling gray tunnel that swallowed his sons as closely as the gods would allow. "What's a temporal hurricane? Are you sure they're okay in there? We have to help them." 

Since she was perched on his shoulder, Goku could barely catch Oney's dramatic shrug in his peripheral vision. "This is all theoretical, really. The afterlife has been shifted out of phase with time. A place like this shouldn't exist. Technically, you can move between timelines relatively safely. As soon as you change timelines, you become a part of that time, uniquely displaced, but inert as far as time and space are concerned. There is no timeline here at the moment, and the safe inertness is not happening like it should. The hurricane is the result of two volatiles, virtually identical temporal signatures, in collision. Their similarities, their differences...it is a little complicated." 

"I don't have to understand how it happened. Just tell me they're okay and tell me how I can help," Goku said. "Well?" 

Oney felt a twinge of guilt for using the gentle warrior she was perched on. He'd done nothing but help, and she'd inadvertently caused his child's temporal displacement. "I assure you that they're safe, theoretically anyway. This is all theoretical..." 

"Theoretical? Theoretical? Could you stop theorizing for half a second and try to be practical? You said this could be useful, well what did you mean?" West Kai snapped. "If the children are safe, we should get back to the business of fixing this ungodly mess." 

"Right," Oney said. She didn't give the pushy God the satisfaction of showing her temper again. "This hurricane should exist in the space between our true timeline and the rouge one. If we follow it to its source, we should find the inciting incident, or more specifically what caused this_ ungodly mess._" 

"How fortunate," Shin said. He cocked his head appraisingly at the vortex and tried to get a good sense for its dynamic. "And exactly how does one follow a temporal hurricane without being ripped to shreds?" 

Oney shook her head slowly. _ I don't know. _ "Very carefully...we're going to need a volunteer..."

* * *

Gohan yawned and stretched, working through every muscle group like Piccolo taught him. Starting with his toes and ending at his eyebrows, he felt no relief to the sluggish weariness clinging to him limbs. Normally he woke up feeling good? With a final flex to his fingers, Gohan opened his eyes. A void, black nothingness, surrounded him. Random flashes of light, gold, red, and green, illuminated the emptiness like strange lightning but without the thunder. His heart leaped into his throat, and it took a long moment of panic for Gohan to remember why he wasn't asleep in his bed at home. "I touched the other me, Reinyn. Is this the afterlife still? What did I cause?" 

Gohan wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't exerting any energy to fly and there was nothing supporting him from below, but he didn't fall. Maybe if he flew, he'd get somewhere? "Hello?" No reply returned and Gohan took a slow steadying breath, but the air tasted wrong, dead and flat, not like air at all. "I don't want to be here, so I'll fly somewhere else." How to choose a direction though? Up and down was pretty hard to define without gravity, and there wasn't anything to fix as a destination. Choosing the direction he happened to be facing at the moment, Gohan propelled himself forward. Well he exerted the energy to move anyway, but there wasn't any scenery to judge distance by or even any wind. _ I'll just keep going until I find something or someone. That's assuming I'm actually moving. _"Hello! Is anyone there? Someone answer me." _ Did I cause this when I touched Reinyn? What is this? _ "Dad! Anyone?"

* * *

Goku stood in front of the vortex which swallowed his son and waited for Shin and Oney to send him on his way. When the gods had asked for a volunteer, he hadn't been the only willing fighter or even the most experienced, but his son was in that mess, and his family was still alive in one of those timelines. He had the most motivation to succeed. Goku smiled to himself determinedly. He wouldn't have taken no for an answer anyway. "What do I do when I get where I'm going?" Goku asked. "Will I see Gohan when I pass through?" 

"If we had any idea where we were sending you or what was happening there to skew time, we could tell you. As is, you'll have to make a judgment call. Try to figure out what's happening and stop it if you can. We can always make another attempt if you fail, but the information is critical," Shin said. He motioned to Oney, and the tiny bureaucrat abandoned Goku's shoulder. "If you're ready, we will begin." 

_ Goku's like a big trusting child. _ Oney felt a bitter twinge in her conscience. Unlike the other beings here, Oney could see time, its symmetrical matrix and its flowing rhythm. For the last hours she'd had the opportunity to study her temporal hurricane and begin to understand it._ I should tell them what I've learned, but if I do, they may not continue with the repair. If we don't repair this disunion, time might rip in earnest and the universe would truly end...but if we allow this to proceed, Goku will be killing his own son. _

After fixing the timelines, they were destined to lose the temporal anomaly. Originally, she had thought maybe there would be a chance to retrieve the lost children, but no, the hurricane was going to cease to exist and everyone caught in it was going to be lost in its collapse. Trapped in the eye of the storm now, Gohan and Reinyn were going to be obliterated. Their souls wouldn't even get the chance to enter the afterlife. With her silence she sentenced them to a fate worse than death, an eternity wandering free from time and physical space. _ I should tell them what I've seen. _But Oney continued the preparations with Shin silently. 

There was more to be considered here than the loss of two individuals. Billions of lives and souls were at stake. Oney couldn't let herself be swayed by emotions. She nodded to Shin, and there wasn't any doubt hiding in her steady gaze. Her conscience could bear this burden. She was solely responsible for this timeline, and two souls were expendable in the end. "Steel yourself, Son Goku. We are ready to begin."

* * *

"Nothing ever changes here," Gohan shouted into the void. He wasn't even granted an echo for his efforts. The insubstantial blackness swallowed everything he offered it. His questions and shouts and pleas were offered up to the void, barely ringing in his ears before they were gone. Gohan closed his eyes and commanded himself to just breathe and stop panicking. 

_ I wish I was home, having dinner. I'd do two weeks homework and triple chores, no breaks, if I could just be somewhere. I'd settle for the wilderness if I had to or the afterlife. Home would be so great right now._

With his eyes shut, Gohan could imagine that he was in his mom's kitchen. He could practically smell dinner, broccoli and chicken. The linoleum squeaked under his feet, and Gohan's eyes flew open. That was a touch too real for a daydream...too real because it was real? It was home, just like he'd imagined it. His mom's pans were suspended across her lemon yellow walls, and a skillet of broccoli and chicken was simmering unattended. "Mom never leaves anything cooking." Gohan turned off the burner before anything could ignite and started searching the house. "Mom! Are you here?" Every room was empty, even Goten's crib. "Looks like home, smells like home, but it's empty. Maybe Mom took Goten out for a walk..."_...with dinner back here on the stove..._"...she probably just carried him to the laundry line with her..."_...while the house burned down. _

"Am I home with everyone gone, or is this home at all?" The curtains were drawn. Were they closing out the midday heat or was the void out there waiting for him to open the door and rejoin it? Gohan walked over to the front door and lingered over the handle. "It's just the yard. Mom's at the laundry line with Goten on her back, and he's probably chewing on my favorite shirt." Throwing the door open, Gohan didn't have the heart to look outside at first. 

The smell of grass and wind moving over his face convinced him that the void hadn't returned before he dared look. His eyes told him what his other senses had first assured him, the outside was just as perfect as inside had been. "Mom..." Gohan headed around to the backyard at a run. He didn't stop until he was at the laundry line. A half-full basket was sitting right where it should have been, and the line was sagging lopsided under a partial load. His brother's cuddly carrier was on the ground with a slobbery looking blue shirt draped across, but no mom and no brother. "It's just what I imagined, except no people." 

The world around him suddenly felt fragile. Was the void playing with him? Was it giving him what he wanted? Maybe he was hallucinating? "The kitchen's green," Gohan said. He shut his eyes and remembered exactly what the kitchen had looked like before his mom repainted with yellow. This time he made his way slowly back to the house. He wasn't sure what he expected in the kitchen. Just because he imagined the kitchen was green wasn't going to make it so, and if it did, what did that mean? 

Gohan pushed the door open and winced at the dark olive green walls. It was all some sort of solid illusion then. He was standing in a figment of his own imagination, a bubble in the void. Maybe if I look there's someone else, anyone else." 

* * *

__

Just ride it. It's flowing to the divergence point. Don't fight, and don't try to give yourself direction. You can't drown or die there. No matter how long it seems, that hurricane exists outside of time. You'll be fine as long as you don't fight it. 

After all Oney's warnings and cautions, Goku had expected to be tumbling through a turbulent tempest, but as far as he could tell he wasn't moving at all. There were lights, bright and fast. The colors shifted around the visual spectrum a dozen times every minute. "Hello," Goku offered tentatively. Technically Gohan and the other Gohan were in here somewhere. Maybe they could hear him if he called? Or maybe if he looked around a little he could find them? Just floating and waiting for something to happen was a little boring. 

__

Don't fight, and don't try to give yourself direction. 

Goku frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. Oney's directions were very annoying. His son might be two steps away, but he wasn't even supposed to check, and he wasn't moving? The hurricane was broken or something. No one seemed very sure about how anything was supposed to work. Well, they obviously hadn't anticipated him being stuck in one spot like this. 

Before Goku could set off in search of his sons, the light filled empty place gave way to real air and solid ground. Goku looked up into a sky full of stars and smiled. Maybe he had been moving. A vortex like the one in the afterlife was spinning just behind him. 

Breathing deep, Goku's smile deepened. There was no mistaking that smell, dirt and grass and flowers. He was home on Earth. The problem came from Earth then? He had to try and figure out what happened and stop it. What on Earth could have disrupted time and space? If he couldn't sense fighting auras, Goku would never have noticed the ritual beginning in a clearing a few hundred feet away. He could sense auras though, and the one burning up at him was unmistakable. 

_ Vegeta... _

The prince was there surrounded by all seven Dragonballs. As Goku watched Shelong appeared, but Vegeta hesitated over his wish. 

"No! Whatever you're about to wish, you can't. I can't let you," Goku called. He instantly transported across the short distance to Vegeta's clearing. "There will be some pretty serious repercussions if you do this. I'm talking cosmic scale." 

Vegeta turned from the Eternal Dragon and laughed. "If it isn't Kakarrot back from the dead." Inside him the warring voices quieted. It wasn't as if anything had been decided. He was still confused. Part of him wanted his old life back, but an increasingly larger part was happy in this humanized life. The issue had just been postponed. Kakarrot's arrival switched a few priorities. Destroy rival, then decide whether to make the wish. "You think you can stop me? Fight me then."

* * *

A stream's clear cool water flowed around a smooth pebbled bottom. Tiny eddies and currents rippled around the fronds of little water plants and reeds. Reinyn sat quietly on the bank with his fingers tangled into the thick mat of damp green grass. This was the stream from his dream, the good dream. There were only two types of dreams he ever had: stream dreams and bloody dreams. Sometimes stream dreams would turn into bloody dreams especially if they were very clear, but you just had to enjoy them while they lasted. 

This dream started stranger than most. He'd seen his long-dead father on Vegeta. The fight with Turnitz and then the prince hadn't seemed like a dream, but maybe they had been. Maybe he fell asleep in the interrogation room on the way to the fight, or maybe the Prince knocked him unconscious. He couldn't be dead. This place was too beautiful and peaceful for that. People who'd done the things he'd done didn't go to places like this when they died. 

Reinyn broke off a piece of grass and tossed it into the stream to watch it float away. It lingered swirling through the complicated little currents long after it should have vanished, and Reinyn started counting seconds in his head while the piece of grass danced for him. He was up to fifteen when he sensed the other presence, a strong fighter, stronger than he'd ever sensed. He had to be a warrior Saijen. The Prince hadn't been anywhere near that strong. 

This dream was going to turn bloody then. Not a surprise but it was a little disappointing. He could always just ignore the interloper. If he really tried to suppress his fighting aura, maybe he could make this dream stay clean and clear? 

Not far away on top of the hill, Gohan didn't notice his duplicate, Reinyn. He was focused on the hillside. Up until now this place had taken the images right out of his head and made the world. Everything was perfectly how he envisioned it, down to the last blade of grass. 

Here the scene became impressionistic. This hill was covered in clover, but it was way too late in the summer for it to be in bloom. At least that was the way he envisioned it. The hill wasn't executing that vision. Red blossoms, dotted the landscape in a blurred patchwork, almost like a Van Gogh painting. "It's like it can't decide how the hill should look, so it's splitting the middle." Maybe there were competing visions...maybe he wasn't alone? 

Gohan headed down the hill following the blurring of the perfection, the conflict of vision. It took him several seconds to spot Reinyn on the stream's bank. His green jumper blended right in with the thick vegetation. "Hey, I found you. It's me, from before." He almost introduced himself as Gohan, but decided to save that revelation for the inevitable question about the fact that they were virtually identical. 

"Get out of my dream. Go away," Reinyn said. He didn't turn, still trying to ignore this apparition as much as possible. Why couldn't he just have a moment's peace in his own mind? Why did the ghosts and the masochists have to interlope? 

"You're not dreaming. I'm here, and I'm not a figment of your imagination. This place won't create people for you, so I'm pretty sure you aren't a figment of my imagination either." Gohan waited for Reinyn to move, to greet him, to do something. The guy seemed determined to ignore him though. "I'm not going away. I'll keep talking until you have to respond." 

Reinyn rose and turned to Gohan in one motion. "Fine, we'll fight then. I win you go away. You win...what is it you want?" 

"I just want to talk. We don't have to fight," Gohan said. He offered Reinyn his hand in greeting but the other boy just shook his head. 

"You aren't going to destroy this dream for me. Go away before I have to hurt you. Don't make me fight," Reinyn hissed._ It's too late. It's going to turn bloody. _It would start in the stream first. The blood would replace the clean water, and then there would be the ghosts, so many corpses, so much blood. The bloody dreams were like drowning. "Why did you have to come and make me fight? I hate you." 

The witty comments he'd been preparing for explaining who he was and the relationship he and Reinyn shared vanished. Gohan took a step back. The afternoon had turned dark and the stream was wrong, red-black and thick. I didn't envision that. "What's happening?" The hill changed. Instead of an impressionist's painting of flowers on a hill, there were corpses, hundreds upon hundreds of dead bodies. Many of them were obviously alien but a lot of them were children. 

Something wet hit his ankle, and Gohan looked down. The stream was overflowing with what had to be thick warm blood. It's a hill with flowers. Gohan tried to force his vision on the landscape, but it didn't even blur out. It was Reinyn somehow. This nightmare was his, and he was overpowering Gohan's own vision. "Stop it, Reinyn. If you don't think about it, it won't be real. This place...it's just showing you what you show it." 

"Try telling them it isn't real. It is _real_ whether I think about it or not," Reinyn snapped. "I'm ready to fight now. You destroyed my dream, and I won't let that stand. You can join those corpses on the hill, warrior." 

"I don't want to fight you," Gohan said. "Why are you making this about a fight? Are you crazy?" _ He's supposed to be me. I should understand myself, shouldn't I?_

"Everything is about a fight. If you win, you're right. If you lose and your opponent let's you live, you're wrong. Otherwise, you're just dead. Then it stops mattering so much about the right and wrong of it all," Reinyn said. "You want to talk to me? You don't want to fight? What the Hell kind of warrior are you?" 

Gohan shook his head slowly and shrugged. "I never really went around thinking of myself as a warrior. I fight to defend myself and my home and my family. If that makes me a warrior, I guess I'm one, but I'd rather be a scholar. I'm better at it." Reinyn wasn't flying at him or starting the fight he'd asked for, so Gohan continued. "You've obviously lived a different life than I have any comprehension of. I don't know if you remember the name, but I'm Gohan, like you. We lived in different timelines. Do you understand?" 

"I say this is an insane dream," Reinyn said. "You aren't me, any more than I'm the Prince of Vegeta." 

"We're identical. I don't have the body art, but how do you explain the uncanny resemblance?" Gohan asked. "You're me, and I'm not stupid, so I know you see it." 

Identical? That took Reinyn a little off guard. He hadn't actually seen himself aside from the occasional distorted glimpse into some chrome in years. "We're not identical, and if we are, it's just this dream. It's just strange." 

"You don't see the resemblance? God, this isn't a dream," Gohan snapped. "We're from different timelines. Something's wrong with time. I didn't get a full explanation, but they need our help to fix it. Between us, they were hoping to figure out what caused the problem. We're supposed to figure out the chief difference between our worlds, our lives. We can do that while we're waiting to be rescued, if you're willing." 

Reinyn shut his eyes and chuckled. This was such a strange dream, a bloody dream with a talkative warrior who didn't even want to fight. This dream was just too strange to keep dreaming it. "These bloody dreams are like drowning. You have to get the drowning over, so you can wake up and start again." Reinyn spread his arms and fell backwards into the thick bloody river. 

"No," Gohan shouted. Reinyn had disappeared beneath the surface, and he wasn't coming up. It took a moment for him to muster the nerve, but Gohan dove in after. He wasn't going to let the bizarre version of himself drown if he could help it.

* * *

Goku stepped forward and cocked his head at Vegeta. "You want to fight, right now? I really wouldn't mind, except Gohan's in trouble, and I need to get back to him."_ Assuming this unwished wish caused the trouble, I could stop it by making a wish first. This isn't terribly honorable, but I'll make it up to him somehow. _ "I wish for my sons' safety. Send Gohan and Reinyn home to Chichi, please." 

The dragon bobbed its head and coiled tightly. "This wish is acceptable." In an instant, Goku and Vegeta were alone together. 

"How dare you," Vegeta growled. "That wish belonged to me, Kakarrot! I will kill you for interfering!" But his rival didn't linger. The afterlife reclaimed Goku with a silent flicker of white light, leaving Vegeta alone with his demons. The complacent side of him that was satisfied with his life was relieved. The smoldering Saijen Prince in him was murderous. Overlaying and blunting that internal conflict was a deep seated hatred for the only man to ever truly defeat him. It was just like Kakarrot to vanish with their fight not even begun. He stole the wish too! Vegeta screamed and wished that he had someone to punch, preferably a big grinning buffoon. He'd knock the idiot's halo off. 

* * *

** Author's Note:**

It has been a very long time coming, I know. All I can do is apologize. My laptop died an unnatural death and I lost more than 50 pages of this story. It was very hard to come back and try to write over what was lost. I'd find myself pondering the original lost pages and they were just not rewritable. I have enough distance now, that I think I can get through this section. Wish me luck, and hopefully it won't be half-a-year before I release the next chapter. 


	17. Drip Drop

**

**

Chapter 16 Drip Drop

  
  


"Did I fix it?" Goku asked his question even though the Gods and warriors of the dead were celebrating under a star filled sky. 

"Yes my boy, you fixed it," North Kai exclaimed. "I knew you would do it." He couldn't help puffing up with pride since it was his warrior who repaired things. "So how did you do it? What happened?" 

"The Dragonballs," Goku said. "Someone was going to misuse them for a wish. I made a wish before they could and problem solved." 

Oney couldn't' believe that Goku hadn't already asked about his son. "Aren't you worried about the Gohans? We weren't able to retrieve them." Oney interjected. There was no sense waiting for his son to occur to him. She might as well get this over with. 

"That's my fault Oney. I'm not worried, not after the wish I made," Goku said. "I wished them home to their mother, or mothers." 

"The other one, Reinyn, is gone anyway with the rest of the rogue timeline," West Kai said. "Goku stopped the other wish. He ended it neatly. I would imagine the people of the other time-line don't even exist any longer." 

Goku paused and shook his head. _ Did I kill them...I didn't mean to kill anyone._

The celebration died down at the mention of that many souls being extinguished. Everyone knew that time had to be repaired, but at what cost? 

Oney visibly sagged with Goku's declaration about his wish. Her conscience wouldn't have to bear that bit of pain. Maybe this warrior wasn't as simple as he appeared? "The people of the alternate worlds were never meant to exist in the first place, so try not to feel too upset. They're dead, but not rubbed from existence. Souls are sturdy things that don't vanish so easily after their creation. I think you'll notice the afterlife has had a serious influx of souls, a whole universe of souls." 

"Dear lord," East Kai whispered. "What will we do with them all?"

* * *

Elsewhere in the afterlife, a different man named Goku stood, surrounded by the souls of his family and friends. Chichi was cuddling Goten, whispering to him as she rocked him in her arms. Bulma was weeping onto Yamcha like a baby. She'd just found out she was pregnant with their first child and now they were dead. He kept squeezing her and whispering that their child's soul was here somewhere, and it was going to be okay. The others, Piccolo and Krillin, Yashirobe and Tien, Master Roshi and the Ox King, were handling things quieter if not better. 

_ We fought so long and hard, and it all ended anyway. _Goku ran a finger along a jagged scar in his shoulder and stared out at the millions upon millions of souls. At least it wasn't the Saijens. At least they didn't let them win. 

"Everyone something's coming. Look," Ox called. 

A short blue man in a simple collar and tie pulled up alongside their gathering in a hover-car and stood with a bullhorn. "Ladies and gentlemen and children, you are here because of Armageddon. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that your universe and all associated structures creased to exist today. There was a snafu in time which could only be resolved by said destruction. There is no reason to fear. There will be a minor amount of waiting because of volume overload of souls, but please be patient. The afterlife is a pleasant place for most people." 

The man dropped his bullhorn and headed down the road a distance to repeat his announcement. He didn't stop to reply to any of the shouted questions or cries of disbelief. 

"That's it?" Chichi said. "It's all just over?" She stared down at her baby, Goten, and tried not to cry. It wasn't fair. 

"I can't believe this is it," Goku said. He managed to force a smile for his friends. "Guess we don't have to worry about the Saijens destroying the world anymore." 

"Cold comfort," Kurillin hissed. "What could that guy have meant by a temporal snafu? There's a glitch in time and someone in the afterlife destroys our universe. It seems kind of wasteful to me." 

"I don't even care right now." Chichi stood and hiked Goten up on her shoulder. "I'm going to find Gohan. If this is the end of the whole universe, he's here somewhere, and I want to see him." 

"Your kid's been dead for years," Piccolo said. He let his annoyance at the abrupt end to his life spill over in the sneer he leveled at Chichi. "I imagine he's off in whatever part of the afterlife the rest of us are waiting for. Try thinking before you act. You aren't going to find him by wandering around like a lost chicken." 

Goku frowned and shook his head at Piccolo. Chichi had never been the type that needed defending, but Gohan was a sore subject. After losing him, she changed. She was somehow more fragile and afraid. Piccolo knew better than to attack her on that subject. Quite frankly, Goku wasn't about to stand by and let anyone torment his wife about her loss. "I suggest you watch it, Piccolo." 

"You're telling me to watch it? I spent the last seven years fighting with you and you can tell me to watch it around your stupid little mate? I deserve more respect than that, and I suggest you give it to me." Piccolo snarled. He set his shoulders and summoned his energy. "Apologize." 

"Oh dear," Master Roshi muttered. The raw feelings between Goku and Piccolo had never been properly dealt with, despite fighting together against the Saijens. The friction between them occasionally boiled over and they ended up in a brawl. It had been nearly two weeks since their last fight. They were about due for another one. When these boys came due for a fight, any excuse would do. "Quick guys, get these people out of the way. They're gonna go at it again."

* * *

Falling through the river of blood, Reinyn closed his eyes and waited for the familiar tug of Vegeta's gravity to tell him he'd escaped his dream. Like settling into an old worn glove, Reinyn felt his bunk under him and the hard sack of material that passed for a pillow under his head. The lights flashed on, and Reinyn rolled out of bed. There wasn't a swarm of children to sift through though. The dormitory was empty. Where were his kids? Gray floors, gray walls, Reinyn hadn't ever felt the size of the room. It was giant and hollow. Almost empty, almost hollow, the insane warrior who didn't want to fight had followed him here. "I thought this dream was over..." 

"It isn't a dream," Gohan said. He was beginning to feel like a bit of a broken record, repeating himself ad infinitum. "Haven't you been listening to me at all? We're caught up in a time-something. You and I are the same person, except our life experiences are different. I don't know this place, or why you seem to be in control of where we end up all of a sudden, but I'm willing to work with you to try and figure this out." 

"We can't be the same person and you not know this place. This is Diasheru, home sweet home," Reinyn said. He laughed and turned a full circle. "I say, prove you're me and maybe I'll believe you." 

"Prove it? I can prove this," Gohan said. It wasn't unbearable, but this place was too heavy and hot. Maybe this was a big gravity room. "How about we prove the resemblance first?" Gohan closed his eyes and bit his lip. I need a mirror, a little one will work, but I need one. He envisioned a compact like his mom carried. The round bit of plastic would stretch his back pocket taunt. _ Presto? _ Gohan found the requested object in his pocket and sighed. The place would still respond to him when it didn't interfere with Reinyn's vision. "Here check yourself out." Gohan snapped open the compact and tossed it to his double. "Deny that." 

Reinyn felt the strangest trill in his stomach at the thought of seeing himself. His identity was built on other things, his actions, his environment, his kids, and his battles. A face hadn't been that important. The little round compact revealed a boy's face, smooth and supple with wild spiky hair. Reinyn traced a finger over the two lines in his neck and snorted. _ I thought I'd look older. _ "Okay I see it. We're not bad looking you know." 

"You believe me then? That was actually easy." Gohan grinned and waited for Reinyn to agree. 

"I want to see your tail," Reinyn said. He unwound his brown furry appendage from his waist and let it fall to the ground. "Then you'll have me convinced." 

Gohan hadn't even noticed the tail which had wrapped securely around his doppelganger's waist. Now that it was unfurled, he was a little taken aback. "I lost my tail a long time ago. A friend cut it off, but I had one, really." 

Reinyn chuckled and plopped down on the floor. "I was kidding. I'll listen to what you have to say, and make my own mind about what's going on. Start talking, Gohan." It felt weird hearing that name again. It rolled off the tongue wrong. 

"I told you pretty much what I know three times now, so why don't we move onto our lives. While we're waiting for Dad to come for us, we can figure out the big differences between our universes." Gohan joined Reinyn on the slick metal floor. "Here's a thought. If you really believe me a little, we could try to get back to the hill with the flowers. This place isn't real, and it's not comfortable. It's some kind of reflection from our minds. We can close our eyes and both think about the hill, and see what happens."

* * *

Only hours earlier, six Gods and one temporal bureaucrat gathered together to restore time to its normal path, but now the grounds of their council stood silent and empty. Goku sighed and plopped down onto a comfy bit of grass to resume his interrupted star gazing. The God's had a lot of work ahead of them. With the sudden influx of souls, everyone had their hands full getting their corners of the afterlife back in order. 

Well, getting a universe of souls settled into the afterlife wasn't a duty of a Warrior of the Dead. Everything was back the way it was supposed to be. Goku sighed and tried not to feel too lonely. He was still stuck in the afterlife, and everyone else was back living their lives. On the bright side, he did get a chance to see Gohan again for a few seconds. It would have been nice to have a chance to spend a little more time with him, but seeing his son at all had been great. 

Unbidden, the hard accusing eyes of Reinyn flashed across Goku's memory and his smile faded back a degree. What could have happened to that version of Gohan to make him so different and dangerous? His initial instinct had been to talk to the child and try to help. He wanted to heal whatever wounds were causing that pain. As things stood, he would never know anything else about the alternate reality or his alternate son. It wasn't really in Goku's nature to worry, and as a rule he didn't dwell on the mysteries of things he'd never understand. Why couldn't he shake the worry over this mystery then? 

A familiar energy flared amongst the endless sea of displaced souls and Goku sat up. He'd never seen his own fighting aura from this angle, but that was another him out there apparently getting caught up in some sort of conflict. It wasn't his responsibility to help settle these souls into the afterlife, but Warriors of the Dead did keep the peace. Someone should stop the fight that was brewing down there. And if he asked the other Goku a few questions along the way, what was the harm? 

* * *

A warm rush of sweet air tickled over Reinyn's senses, and he opened his eyes on the hill. The stream was back trickling along, and the other him, Gohan, was there too, grinning like a freaking lunatic. "So you were right. What is this place, really? How do we get home? I don't know about you, but I have responsibilities to look after." Just thinking about the mess his dormitory would be in by now, made Reinyn sick to his stomach. 

"The name of the game is this-is-your-life. I'll go first, then you. We'll see if we can't figure out the information they need to fix time," Gohan said. "Hmmm...I guess we can start young and work forward?" 

Reinyn nodded and leaned back into the thick clover and its blossoms. "Tell me who you are Gohan. I'm listening." 

"Right, I had a real tendency to get kidnapped when I was a kid. It always made mom mad because I'd get behind in my studies..."

* * *

Chichi didn't want to watch her Goku fight Piccolo again. It was all so pointless and endless. They fought Saijens and waited and fought each other and waited and fought Saijens again. It never stopped even in death. She stared down into the peaceful face of her Goten and tried to just ignore the battle. Goku would win in the end whether she watched or not. Abandoning her up-close-and-personal view, Chichi faded back into the crowd. 

"Hi, is that Goten?" 

The fight was still going. Chichi could hear the two combatants panting and punching, but Goku was standing by her side. He was making goo-goo eyes at the baby and attempting to copy Goten's gurgle-language. It wasn't her Goku though. There were missing scars and he smiled a little too freely. "Who do you think you are? What do you want?" 

"Me? Oh, I'm Goku, you know? Well, I'm not your husband. I have my own Chichi. She's still alive. I have my own Goten too, but I never got to see him." Goku made a funny fish-face, and Goten burst into laughter. "Kids are great at this age." 

"What do you mean, you're Goku? There's only one Goku, and he's over there fighting." Chichi hiked Goten up higher on her shoulder, but he craned his little head around to keep looking at the funny copy of his daddy. "If I scream, he'll come over here." 

"You don't have to scream. I just came down to break up the fight. They look like they're winding down already though." Goku stopped clowning for the baby and adopted a more serious demeanor. "I don't know if you understand what happened. I can't say that I do either, but the way I understand it, there were two timelines where there was only room for one. Two times, two Gokus...I'm from the universe that still exists." 

Chichi sighed and tried to wrap her mind around what everyone kept telling her. Their universe wasn't important enough to exist. "Fine. What do you want? Did you come here to gloat or something? We're all dead, and all the God's and the powers that be don't even care, do they? We were inconvenient, and now we're nothing. I want my son, Gohan. I'm going to find him. He shouldn't have to be alone now. He was alone long enough." 

A dumbfounded look crossed Goku's face. "Your Gohan isn't here with you? He should be here. I wished him to you with the Dragonballs. If he isn't here, Gohan, my Gohan, might not be with his mother. What could have gone wrong?" Goku stepped back, scanning the masses for any sign of the missing boy. 

"I don't understand. You wished my Gohan to me? Why would you do that? Did you see him? You saw him, didn't you? How?" Chichi bit her lip to keep from screaming at this Goku. Why wasn't he talking to her? 

"Yes, I saw your son for about fifteen seconds. He was a little...different than I expected. He was different than my Gohan. I wanted to make sure he made it back to you guys okay, and I guess I wanted to help him if I could." Goku felt a little uncomfortable under the full force of Chichi's stare. What did she want from him? "Did I do something wrong?" 

Chichi stopped herself from tearing into this guy and grilling him. _ He's just Goku, another Goku. He wants to help. _"I haven't seen Gohan in seven years," Chichi whispered. "Can you help me find him?" 

Goku met the eyes of himself over Chichi's head. So the lighthearted brawl was over. "I know my way around the afterlife, and I'll help you find your son," Goku said. "Just follow me."

* * *

"...Cell killed my dad. I think that's probably the low point of my life. I couldn't let go and kill him when I should have. You're probably the first person I've ever talked to who might really understand this, but I've always been afraid of the power in me. Subconsciously, I couldn't let it go completely until Cell really pushed me far enough to...I'd never really killed someone before. Cell was evil, but it still haunts me sometimes. Sometimes I'm upset with myself for killing another sentient creature, but most of the time I'm just mad at myself, because I waited till my dad was dead to do it. If you're going to wear the blood on your hands, wouldn't it have been nice to save your dad, you know?" Gohan ended his recital and waited for a substantive response from Reinyn. The guy hadn't done anything but grunt occasionally through Gohan's entire story. 

A damn fairy tale, Reinyn was tempted to shout. This Gohan's life was unreal, painted in black and white, full of happy endings. The worst thing this boy had ever done was kill a killer. What would he think of Reinyn's first killing, four nameless little boys in a life or death free-for-all? "I think I spotted the major difference in our timelines," Reinyn said. "You said the planet Vegeta was destroyed, yes? Well, it was still there in my timeline, still spinning and producing Saijens." Gohan was looking at him like he wanted to know more, and technically they'd agreed to share their lives. Reinyn snorted to himself and shook his head. There was no way he was laying his life bare for the white knight. It wasn't that he was ashamed either. It just wasn't any of this guy's business. "I'm going swimming," Reinyn announced. "If this is going away soon, I want to enjoy it." 

"Hey, it's your turn to share," Gohan said. Reinyn had already waded off into the stream though jumpsuit and all. "Can I at least ask you a question or two? Reinyn?" 

"Ask all you want. I can't say if I'll answer."

* * *

King Yemma tried not to completely lose his mind. There were so many souls everywhere, overflowing the space they had allocated for waiting. There were souls under his desk and sitting on the filing cabinets. There was a pernicious little soul dangling from one of his hat's horns. His subordinates were out in the field spreading information and doing the basic sorting. The underlings were qualified to identify four categories: Hell bound, Heaven assured, borderline, and troublemakers. Hopefully, the borderlines wouldn't be the huge category it usually was. 

"King Yemma, yoo-hoo, down here." 

Amidst the loitering souls under his desk, a familiar warrior was grinning up at him, and he wasn't alone. Two Goku's, Chichi and child, it was time-consuming trouble if he'd ever seen it. "What do you want? Can't you see that I'm a little busy here?" 

"I do believe you are, sir, but I was hoping you might give us a bit of help. We're looking for their Gohan or Reinyn or whatever you have him listed as," Goku said. "I wished him to his mother with the Dragonballs, but it didn't happen. Shenlong said the wish was acceptable, so I'm a little confused." 

With a growl, King Yemma tapped at a keypad a stared at a miniscule terminal. "For you Goku, I'll look. We're switching to this new computer system. If I can't find him here, you'll just have to wait. Alternate Universe Souls - Gohan-Search...No Results. What was that other name? Reinyn? Ah, results. Reinyn should have been on the planet Vegeta at the end of the rogue-universe." Yemma frowned and tapped at his table nervously. Recently, he'd ordered the entire planet of Vegeta's souls into the troublemaker category, just to stop all their fighting from accidentally harming any innocent bystander souls. "Pending proper sorting all souls ear-marked from Vegeta were isolated en mass under the potential troublemaker category. It will be awhile before that gets sorted through." 

"Troublemakers? My son is not a troublemaker. I want him out of there this instant," Chichi fumed. "He was a prisoner." 

"There are quite a few innocents caught up in that designation, but the situation is being watched and no one is going to get hurt." Glancing over the information on the screen before clearing it, King Yemma's eyes widened. 

**Reinyn:**

  


**Age:** 11

**Species: **Saijen - Human Hybrid

**Occupation at Time of Death:** Soldier  
Current Death Toll - 4.2 million (approximate number)  
Number of Innocents Killed - 2.73 million (approximate number)  
Number Killed Freely/of Own Accord - 1

**Current Classification: ** Troublemaker/Borderline

**Additional Comments: ** Not yet listed on any headcounts, whereabouts unconfirmed

"I can't help you extract him, Goku. Reinyn is right where he needs to be until he gets properly classified," King Yemma said. He pressed a button and the statistics on his screen printed. "I don't have time to mess around with this. Now get out of here. I have work to do." 

Chichi glared up at the imposingly tall God and growled low in her throat. She snatched the sheet of paper he handed down and glanced at the information. "I can't believe you aren't going to help us. I mean..." The data seeped into her brain and she lost all train of thought. Chichi's first instinct was to toss the paper back at King Yemmah and demand the real printout. Her son wasn't a soldier, and he hadn't killed that many people. Reinyn obviously wasn't Gohan...how many Saijen Human hybrids were there though? "This is an error," Chichi said. "My baby is just 11 and this isn't possible. Gohan wouldn't do this." 

Her Goku slipped the paper from his wife's hand and stared down at the information. All those battles with the Saijens, and it was the Saijens who won in the end. They took the little boy Gohan and destroyed him. They made a soldier named Reinyn. Chichi could deny it all she wanted. How many eleven year old human Saijen hybrids were there? One. "Do you know what's going to happen to him? Will we be in the afterlife together?" 

King Yemma looked up from his paperwork and shrugged. "He was 11 and a soldier. We won't hold him responsible for taking orders. The only worrisome bit on there is the one free killing. If it was done of clear mind, without extenuating circumstances, it's murder. I'll have to talk to him, watch a bit of his life on the tube, and judge him as fairly as I can." 

"That is a mistake," Chichi screamed. "Do you hear me? My baby didn't do those things. He wouldn't." Hearing his mother's cries, Goten joined in her tirade, his yowls almost drowning out her screams. 

Goku took Chichi by the shoulders and smiled through his pain. "It's okay. Goten is crying, and he needs you. It's all going to be okay. We'll help Gohan when we find him. He's going to be okay too." 

Chichi shook her head and rocked Goten as gently as she could manage through her sobs. "It's a mistake. You hear me? Gohan wouldn't do that." Her voice was quieter now like she was telling herself, convincing herself. She stepped back toward the crowd and headed back they way they'd come. "You'll all see. Gohan would never do that." 

The Goku from the rogue timeline turned to his double and offered him the sheet. "You talked to my son and saw him. Do you believe that?" 

Goku had a hard time getting his brain around the magnitude of death represented by that many million people. When it hit him, his first instinct was to say no, Gohan would never do that. But maybe Reinyn would? "He was wild and jumpy and confrontational. He didn't trust us, and he didn't seem to even recognize me. It was strange. What happened to him? My son, Gohan is tough, but he's soft too. He isn't a killer, and I don't see what could have made him one." 

"Don't you?" the alternate Goku said. "How many Saijens do you know anyway? Nevermind. I have to go to Chichi. She needs me right now. Thanks for your help." 

Alone with his sheet of statistics, the real Goku turned back toward the training grounds and thanked every God he could think of for his son and his life. 

* * *

Back on Earth in the living world, Chichi was settling onto her couch for a five minute break. Dinner was in the oven, Goten was asleep-fed-dry, and the house was officially clean. She cut her eyes at the kitchen table and the stacks of books waiting there. It wasn't like Gohan to leave his studies unfinished. She'd told him to take a break, not a day off. Well, maybe he deserved a day off. Chichi wiggled down into the smooth cotton cushions of the couch, and resolved not to go looking for her truant son, yet. 

A crackle of electricity brought Chichi out of her drowsy state and she sat forward. Lightning? Brighter this time, the power flashed at the ceiling. "What?" Her first instinct was to run to the back bedroom and protect Goten, but she didn't even make it to her feet. It started to rain. Fats drops of water speckled over the soft gray carpet and everything else in the living room. Chichi lifted her hand where a drop had struck and stared. "I..." The splattering of rain gave way to a torrential flood. The smell was sweet and fishy like the creek outside. 

Chichi sputtered and snorted the water out of her nose. "Gohan!" In the floor tangled up with another boy, she could see her oldest son. He managed to regain his feet and waded through the two feet of standing water in her living room to his mother's side. 

"Mom! It's really you. Or I think it's really you." 

Chichi's scream of fury almost rattled the window panes. She took a couple of deep breaths and continued almost calmly. "Gohan, what happened? Where did this water come from? I want every detail." 

"I don't think I can explain it, and I don't know if things are fixed, either...or even if this is really my home. Maybe this isn't real, or maybe it's Reinyn's home?" 

On the floor, still and silent, Reinyn listened to Gohan, the white knight, talk to his mother. _ This really isn't a dream, is it? _ Over the smell of creek water, another aroma intruded, sweet and spicy meatballs. Reinyn sat up and turned so he could see them together, mother and son. They were sopping wet. Chichi was touching Gohan and searching for injuries. He hardly even seemed to notice her attentions. Reinyn looked away, water dripping off his chin and running rivers down his face. It had been years since he let himself think about Earth or home. He couldn't have survived if he'd let himself think about... 

"Mom, have you ever heard the name Reinyn? I just need to make sure this is...you are my mom." Gohan hoped his mom wouldn't think he was completely insane, but it was a valid concern. 

"No, never heard of a Reinyn, and why wouldn't I be your mom? What happened? I'm not going to ask again." Chichi had a niggling suspicion that whatever had happened had been both dangerous and violent. Falling through the ceiling with a few hundred gallons of water doesn't just happen, not to mention the guy crouching there in the floor. 

"The short version: Dad took me to the afterlife to help with a problem with time. That's where I met Reinyn, another me from a different universe. We were swimming..." Gohan pointed to the soggy lump still sitting in the living room floor. "Hey Reinyn, I think this is my universe, don't you? This is my mom, just like your mom only she's mine. Reinyn?" 

Fat salty tears rolled down Reinyn's face disappearing into the streams of water still rolling down his face. Little memories that he'd suppressed for so long taunted him. The sound of Chichi's voice, the smells from her kitchen, the very pull of the Earth's gravity, tormented him with the memories they stirred. _ I'm not Gohan anymore. That isn't my mother._

"Reinyn? That's an odd name, even for our family. He's you, you say? That's odd, Gohan. Are you sure? You're going to have to tell me a little more about how this happened." Another Gohan? Chichi smiled in spite of herself. Well, she'd just have to make sure he was okay before she reamed the two of them out for the state of her living room. Two Gohans could clean this place up faster than one. "Reinyn, are you okay? You aren't hurt are you?" 

_ She isn't my mom. She isn't anything to me, and I'm not Gohan...I don't care what she thinks or sees. Why should I care? _ Reinyn look over his shoulder at her sincere concerned smile, and his heart ached. Seven years of distance wasn't enough to blot out the emotions welling up in him. _I care what she thinks…I can't let her see me. She'll take one look, and she'll see it on me. She'll know what I am. I'm just a soldier, just a Saijen, just a killer. _ Reinyn scanned the room looking for an escape. 

Gohan didn't notice a spike in his double's energy, but somehow he could feel his panic. Almost like twins who feel each other's pain, Gohan knew Reinyn was giving in to his fear. "It's okay, man. No one wants to hurt you or anything. What's wrong?" Without any outward warning, Reinyn flew for the living room's open window. Gohan stared after his doppelganger's exit and started after him. "Mom, I have to go after him. He's me, so he's strong, and he's really confused. So...set another place for dinner..." 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Well, that's officially the end of part III. Hopefully, I'll get another chapter in before I hit anesthesia rotation. Next month will be an official 4 week sabbatical from writing in which I don't expect to sleep, much less do anything for recreation. 

Thanks for the kind reviews! :) BTW Nice to see you Doven **grin** Now you know what I'm spending my scarce writing time on. Smallville folks probably think I'm slacking off completely, but I'm not! I'm working on poor neglected projects from the pre-computer crash era. 


	18. Into the Woods

****

Part IV On Earth

Antithesis? 

__

How many people can say they hated themselves, envied themselves, and wanted to fight themselves all at once? Gohan was too different and perfect. He had everything. I had nothing but my memories and my shame. It's probably a good thing that he didn't find me right away when I fled into the wilderness. We would have fought, and someone might have died. 

****

Chapter 17 Into the Woods

  
  


Tapping his pencil against the literature textbook in front of him, Gohan tried to focus on the lines of prose he was supposed to be reading. It was just hard to study when his double was out there somewhere. Dad hadn't even dropped in to let him know how things were going with the time-space-mess. It was frustrating. Gohan snapped the text shut and poked his head into the kitchen. "Mom, can I take the afternoon off?" 

"No," Chichi said. She didn't even look up from the pot she was scrubbing. "You haven't studied a full day in a week. I'm sure the other-you-person just went back to where he comes from. Now, how far have you come with Heart of Darkness? I want a full report mister." 

"Mom, Reinyn might still be out there. We don't know what happened or where he went. I can't just stop looking for him." Besides, that book does not agree with me... "Come on. If I were in another timeline and I was confused and lost, would you want that other Chichi and Gohan to write me off?" 

"No." Chichi let her exasperation leak out in her voice. "Fine, you can look, but this evening we have to figure out another way to handle this. I won't let anything distract you from your future now that you have time to pursue it."

* * *

The wind in the trees, the smell of mud, squirrels throwing acorns, it all surrounded Reinyn, submerging him in a world that he hadn't visited in years except in dreams. He tried not to count the passing days under the yellow sun. He tried not to think about Diasheru and his boys and everything that he would be returning to eventually. For the most part he managed to pretend he was in a dream, the best dream of his life. Alone, free, safe, Reinyn wrapped himself in the blanket of his solitude and did his best to not concentrate on anything...except she kept intruding. Reinyn would beat back his demons, lock them into their boxes, and despite his best efforts, he'd remember his mother. In his memory she wasn't smiling and checking to make sure her son was okay like she had been the day he saw her again. That wasn't really his mother. His real mother was strangled by a Saijen. His real father was executed by Saijens. His home, his Earth, was purged in the same fashion that Diasheru destroyed worlds. 

Saijens destroyed everything, and he was just as guilty as the rest of the killers. Reinyn let a hand stray to the first mark in his neck. The people on that world, Garruth, had been alien and animal-like. If you didn't think about it very hard, you could convince yourself that the aliens were nothing but wild monsters. You had to discount the intelligence in their eyes and the concerted effort they put on to save their world, but at least the denial was possible...not like his second war. Before the screams and the blood and the faces could intrude, Reinyn made his mind go blank. He stared into the small dancing yellow flames of his fire. It wasn't burning very well, spitting and crackling in protest of the damp green wood. Searing in the flames, a skinned rabbit threw off an enticing meaty aroma. The aromatic prospect of dinner finally succeeded in shifting his brain out of active mode, and Reinyn could feel his eyelids start to droop. It had been nearly two days since he'd slept. Sleep, once a refuge from his life, had become a window to the past, a nightmare in which he was banished from the strange dream his life had become. 

Reinyn's eyes drifted shut but he sat up straighter, refusing to surrender to the tenacious lure of sleep. At least while he was awake he could make his mind focus where he wanted. With his eyes open, he was in control. 

* * *

Gohan stood at the edge of the wilderness, closed his eyes, and relaxed. Technically, Reinyn could be anywhere in the world right now, but Gohan's instincts said he would be close. Inhaling the smells of the woods, cedar and dirt and mold, he let his senses reach out. He was searching for energy – brightness as familiar as his reflection. Instead he found other familiar patches of light, his friends and family. Each had his or her own pattern, intensity, and color. Pinpointing his regular markers, Gohan ticked the known auras off in his head. Krillin was a spiraling violet aura. Number 18 was a solid pearl of white energy. The two patterns seemed to be together more often than not lately, and they complemented one another. Gohan lingered over his two friend's auras until Master Roshi's day-glow orange aura made itself seen. They had to be on his island. Moving on to the city, Gohan took a little longer than usual to find Yamcha's slick blue aura. It pulsed his inactivity. He was probably sleeping. Vegeta's sparking golden aura could be counted on to mark Capsule Corp. Sighing, Gohan shifted his focus to the wilderness. Piccolo's intense prickly green aura, jumped out easily. His friend had to be training or meditating. He definitely wasn't hiding. 

Instead of wasting another afternoon searching the world passively for a yellow starburst aura that wasn't there, Gohan took off, heading for one of the auras he could actually identify. Maybe Krillin or number 18 would have a better idea for finding Reinyn. Chichi had just about reached her limit on the afternoons off, and Gohan couldn't deny the niggling frustration he was developing. If his double was still in the world, it was time to find him. 

* * *

Tired from a day's training and meditation, Piccolo had no intention of making any detours on his way home. Breezing through the deep wilderness without making a sound, he almost passed the glow of a fire without stopping. This deep into the wild, you didn't find casual campers though. It was just too dangerous. Piccolo paused and didn't quite grin. Sometimes, if he could get away from his mother, Gohan would take camping trips into the wilderness. He usually came to visit his old mentor before bedding down. It wasn't like Piccolo enjoyed the visits or anything, he assured himself, but he should probably check on Gohan just out of responsibility to his former student. 

Piccolo dropped to the ground and headed for the camp, making no real attempt to mask his approach. The smell of fresh rabbit roasting greeted him before he entered the glow of the fire. "Gohan..." Piccolo barely had a glimpse of his friend before he knew something was wrong. Approaching without stealth, Gohan should have identified him long ago and been expecting him. He was hiding though, banking back his energy and waiting. Piccolo was a little puzzled by his friend's behavior, but he most definitely didn't expect a frontal attack. 

The blazing yellow aura of energy was unmistakably Gohan's, even though Piccolo didn't get a good look at the living projectile that attacked him, pushing him back through the thick tangle of trees. Gohan just sucker tackled him? Piccolo drew his ki up defensively and waited for something more solid than the trees they were crashing through to stop this kamikaze move. "Gohan, if this is a game, I'm not in the mood," Piccolo shouted. 

Reinyn heard the green warrior call him Gohan. He could hear confusion and umbrage at his attack. Maybe he'd made a mistake and picked an unnecessary fight, but he'd been dozing and the fighter had startled him. When you were on a strange world and you lost focus, you died. Reinyn had reacted instinctively to the fighting aura and now he was committed. But he was on Earth in a very different reality, wearing another person's face. This fighter thought he'd found Gohan, and Gohan was short of enemies. Letting his brain catch up to his instincts, Reinyn backed off a degree cautiously. He could at least see what the green warrior would do next. 

"What the Hell was that?" Piccolo snapped. Now that he wasn't flying backwards, he really got a chance to look at Gohan, and a couple of things just didn't quite fit. There were two deep jagged brands in his neck, and his hair had grown four inches in the two weeks since he'd seen him. "What did you do to yourself? Are you okay?" 

"You stay away from me," Reinyn said. Backing away slowly, he stared at the green warrior raptly. "I am not Gohan. You understand me? Stay back or we'll fight." Now that he was taking a change to really look at him, Reinyn was sure the fighter wasn't human. On top of being green, he had pointy ears and little antennae sticking out of his head. Whatever he was, at least he wasn't another Saijen. Maybe he'd walk away? 

"I can't do that, Gohan. Whatever is happening to you, I can help. Let me take you home." Piccolo moved forward keeping Gohan in sight. Something very strange was going on here. 

The stupid warrior was following even after he'd warned him. Reinyn ground his teeth and stopped backing away. "Don't you listen? I told you to stay there or we'd have to fight. You take another step, and this won't be pretty." 

Piccolo continued forward a little nervously. "You won't hurt me. I know you." 

"Stupid. I may not kill you, but I can guarantee that this will hurt." Gohan stepped his game up to super-Saijen. The golden rush of energy was intoxicating, and usually intimidating to his opponents. "As a friend once told me, you should always know the name of the man who's pounding on your face. You can call me Reinyn." 

Piccolo barely had a chance to digest that Gohan was really attacking before he was blocking blows and dodging kicks. _ I just landed in a fight with the kid who killed Cell...a kid who seems a little confused about who he is and the fact that we're allies. _ Piccolo sighed grimly. Hopefully, Gohan was serious about not killing in this battle. If he really wanted to, who the Hell was going to stop him?

* * *

Master Roshi's kitchen was small and almost organized in a cluttered kind of way. Gohan took a long sip off his tea and smiled across the formica table at Krillin and number 18. He most definitely hadn't been imagining their constant closeness. Number 18 could be hard to read, but Krillin had the dopey, dreamy-eyed gaze of a man in love. Clearing his throat, Gohan finished telling about his life's latest drama. "Anyway, this guy, who is me, but isn't, is missing. It's possible that Reinyn went back to his own timeline, but I don't know how, and Dad never checked back in with me on the whole issue with time anyway." 

"Temporal snafu leads to missing doppelganger," number 18 said. "What are we supposed to do about it?" 

"Nothing big or anything, unless you have an idea that might find him? I just thought you guys could keep a watch out for him. Maybe spread the word that we're looking for him, you know? Mom is tired of me taking my afternoons off to look for him, so I thought I'd bug some friends into helping," Gohan said. He smiled a little sheepishly. "I know it's a lot to ask, out of the blue and all..." 

"No problem, we can keep an eye out for this guy," Krillin said. He grinned up at number 18. "It's the least we can do, right?" 

"I suppose," number 18 said. Her deadpan broke for a fraction of a second and she returned Krillin's smile. "Now you ask him." 

Gohan could feel his grin turn quizzical. What could these guys want from him? Krillin's smile actually got bigger if that was possible, and it occurred to Gohan what might be coming. What did people in love do? 

"I asked number 18 to marry me, and she said yes." Krillin blushed as number 18 placed a hand on his thigh possessively. "If Goku were alive, I'd ask him to be my best man. Since he isn't available, Yamcha agreed to do the honors. Master Roshi insisted on organizing the bachelor's party, and well...I was hoping you'd want to be an usher." 

"That's great news. I'd love to be an usher," Gohan said. "Dad would be really sad he's missing this. I wouldn't miss it for the world. Wait till I tell mom." Moving around the table, Gohan enfolded his friend in a hug. Life was moving forward post-Cell. It was right and good and his friends deserved this happiness. 

"Are you ready to party?!" Master Roshi burst into the kitchen with a paper hat strapped to his head. His snaggle-toothed grin faded a degree under number 18's glare. 

"The wedding isn't for three months. There will be no party in the near future," she said. Her clipped unemotional tone was as icy as her blue eyes, and there were whole layers of threat in the monotone syllables. 

* * *

Ignoring the stream of blood trickling off his chin, Piccolo focused past his pain and wondered that he was still standing. Gohan seemed sincere in wanting to beat him, if not kill him. Yet his power levels remained dismally low in comparison to what he used against Cell, and his technique had gone straight to Hell. The way he was holding himself in this lull in their battle was even wrong. It was unnecessarily off-balance and sloppy. Sloppy had defined this battle so far, at least for Gohan. Piccolo just didn't understand it, any of it. 

The stupid green warrior was turning out to be a real pain as far as Reinyn was concerned. He could sense the green warrior's energy level, and the man wasn't stronger. But the green guy kept dodging Reinyn's best attacks and landing his own instead. Judging from the throbbing aches in his body, this green bastard had banged him up more than anyone had managed in quite a few years. It was infuriating. 

Piccolo knew when the next attack was coming. The kid telegraphed the movement in his face and body. He might as well have shouted a warning it was so obvious. "What is this anyway, Gohan?" Piccolo dodged his friend's attack and landed a good blow across his back since it was right there and easy. "I taught you better than this. You're off balance half the time. You aren't thinking about your attacks. I've seen drunk brawlers fight with more finesse and strategy." 

"I'm stronger than you," Reinyn shouted. How dare that smug idiot critique his fighting? His skills got him through two wars, and he'd defeated full Saijens with those moves. "You can't beat me. I'll wear you down. Strategy helps when you need it, but winning is almost always about strength." 

"Gohan, brute strength without thought? You just decided..." Piccolo trailed away. Gohan's energy had spiked again to a more reasonable level considering his capabilities. If his face was anything to judge by, rage was milking the extra power from him. 

"Would you stop calling me Gohan?! I told you my name, R-E-I-N-Y-N. If you call me Gohan once more, it will be the last thing you do!" Moving forward with very nearly deadly force, Reinyn attacked. If the green warrior had so much time to critique, he obviously wasn't working hard enough. 

Piccolo dodged and blocked with every bit of skill he possessed. A direct blow from Gohan...Reinyn when he was this pumped up might do some real damage. Piccolo grimaced. He was going to lose. The kid was right about wearing him down. The blows were raining so quickly, that he could barely dodge and block, much less land anything of his own. "Gohan!" 

"No. Reinyn!" His rage swelling to a pinnacle, Reinyn summoned a killing blow. The world slowed to a complete standstill while he held this green warrior's life in his fingertips. Deacon would be proud, so would Turnitz. In battle, if you feel it, kill it. Don't take any shit. If you feel it, kill it. If you feel it...Turnitz would be proud. The fire and rage in him suffocated under the weight of his memories. Like water through a sieve, his energy flowed out and away. The world was moving again, and the green warrior was attacking. 

Piccolo thought he was facing death. He felt the rise in energy that would herald a blow he couldn't dodge, and Gohan was going to kill him. But he didn't. Piccolo didn't waste the lull in energy. Whatever had happened to his friend, he needed help, and getting him help looked like it was going to involve getting him unconscious first. Half a dozen blows into his offensive, Piccolo saw Reinyn's body shift from the gold of super-Saijen to his normal state. He was defending himself half-heartedly, taking more blows than he was dodging. Piccolo couldn't continue. Maybe Gohan had come to his senses and they could reason this out. "Let's go home, Gohan. We'll get you some help at home." 

"Reinyn isn't that hard a name. Why can't you just call me Reinyn?" The rage of the question was gone. All that remained was a brittle weariness. What was there to fight for here? His pride? His name? He didn't have Deacon's love of power, or Turnitz's obsession with pride. The other children of Diasheru had been worth defending. He'd had a purpose and justification for his existence. Now, in this place, he had nothing. Why fight? Why kill? "Leave me alone. Can't you tell that I'm not him?" 

"I can't leave you alone. Not like this," Piccolo said. "Let's go, now." 

Reinyn stood up straighter and unwound his tail from his waist in a move less about strategy and more about showing strength and pride, two things that he couldn't seem to hold together right now. "I didn't submit to you. You didn't win. You don't get to tell me what to do. I could have won if I wanted." 

Piccolo looked into the darkening sky, searching for the phase of the moon. When the Hell had that damn tail grown back? All they needed right now was a visit from a were-monkey. The moon wasn't in the sky yet, but they didn't need to worry, Piccolo realized. The moon had been a sliver of a crescent yesterday. It wouldn't be full for weeks. Satisfied that he wasn't about to be overwhelmed by Ozaru, Piccolo continued trying to talk some sense into Gohan. "You were going to win? Prove it." It was purely instinct, but Piccolo didn't think Gohan could fight him right now. He seemed deflated and empty. 

"I don't want to prove it. I want you to go away," Reinyn snapped. "I've met stronger warriors, but few denser ones. Just go. No one has to get hurt if you could just manage that." 

"I won't go," Piccolo said. In the same sloppy fashion as earlier, Gohan flew at him in attack mode, but this time he wasn't even a super-Saijen. Piccolo dodged and struck Gohan from the side. He seized him by the tail and was rewarded by his friend's collapse. Quiet and still, Gohan just looked like a battered little boy. It was hard to believe he'd fought and destroyed Cell only a few months earlier. "What happened to you?"_ How do I help? _ Piccolo hesitated until the night was fully on them, and he released Gohan's tail. He couldn't hold it forever, and they would have to talk eventually. 

Reinyn didn't rise or even move in response to his tail's sudden freedom. He just lay there staring across the mossy ground into the wilderness around them. He'd known it was a mistake to leave his tail down. He'd known better than to attack this caliber warrior without his power drawn around him like a shield. By all rights he should be dead just for stupidity. "Why didn't you kill me?" 

"You sound disappointed. Why would I kill you?" Piccolo tried not to let Gohan see how much the question nonplussed him. 

"I guess you'd rather have me owe you. You'd rather be able to tell me what to do and who to be. You wouldn't be the first." It could be easier to have someone else in charge for a while. Reinyn sighed internally. He was probably going to insist on calling him Gohan though. It could get confusing. 

"You think I'm going to try and control you because you lost one fight?' Piccolo asked. "I just want to take you home and get you some help. Understand?" 

"By home, I take it you mean Chichi and Gohan's house?" Reinyn sat up but didn't turn to face the green warrior. He started combing the hairs of his tail delicately with his fingers, soothing the abused structure. 

"You say that as though you aren't Gohan, and Chichi isn't your mother," Piccolo said. "It doesn't make good sense." 

"Doesn't it? I'm not Gohan, and that Chichi is not my mother. Do you feel that?" Reinyn closed his eyes and pointed into the wilderness at the distant glow of a yellow starburst aura. "That's Gohan. I'm Reinyn." 

Piccolo stared into the distance and let the signature of that aura fill his senses. The look of absolute confusion that covered his face was almost comical. That was Gohan, but if that was Gohan... "Who are you?" 

"Reinyn, like I said, not Gohan. It's not that difficult a concept." 

* * *

****

Author's Note: 

Well, I noticed some folks were getting a little impatient. It could be because it's been three blue moons since I posted to this story. Sorry! Life's been a tiny bit busy lately. I'm on food animal rotation and the cows keep me hopping. 

Reviewers tend to make me feel guilty for not posting to a fic, and the Smallville people have me feeling about two inches tall, so I'll be posting over there next probably. I don't have a lot of time to write at the moment, so it will probably be at least a blue moon before I post over here again. I apologize in advance. (I could be wrong about the long wait...went and wrote three pages after writing this author's note, so...could be sooner...) 

As for this chapter, it took a while to come together even beyond the whole busy life thing. I had to figure out how to start the integration of Reinyn into this other reality in a realistic way. He may not get to stay long (who knows...I have my plans but they're always changing...), but it's a major kind of adjustment for everyone no matter the duration. Hopefully, this chapter gets us off on the right track. 

One thing that I'd love some constructive feedback on is the handling of perspective in the scenes with Reinyn and Piccolo. Reinyn knows who he is. Piccolo sees him as a confused Gohan. In paragraphs from Piccolo's perspective Reinyn is referred to as Gohan. In paragraphs from Reinyn's perspective, he is simply Reinyn. Was the perspective confusing or hard to follow? I was torn between trying to keep perspective clear and trying not to confuse the people reading. Any comments are greatly appreciated. 


	19. Rusty

****

Chapter 18 Rusty 

With a baby propped on her thigh and stew boiling on the stove, Chichi expertly shifted ingredients into her cast iron pot without once allowing the gurgling baby within reach of all the hot, sharp, dangerous items he was trying his best to grasp. "Goten, sweetie, if you grab the pot, you'll regret it. Trust me on this one." 

Typically, the doorbell rang just as the stew was reaching that critical point where you needed to get the flames low enough for a gentle simmer. "Just a minute," Chichi called. "Always right when I'm trying to do something." Twisting the stove knob down to low, she and Goten headed to the door. 

They didn't get a lot of visitors out here in the mountain district, so Chichi peeked out the window to make sure it wasn't an old acquaintance of her late husband looking for a fight or anything else unsavory. Well, it was an acquaintance of Goku's but not a troublesome one, not anymore. "Piccolo," Chichi said. She opened the door wide and gestured for him to come in. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, and Gohan should be home soon too." Piccolo didn't come right in though. "Is something wrong?" Chichi could feel paranoia fill her. Goku's death was still fresh, and sometimes she'd catch herself panicking about Gohan's safety. He took too many unnecessary risks. Anything could happen to him. "Did something happen to Gohan? What is it?" 

"It's nothing like that. I haven't seen Gohan," Piccolo said. He stepped to the side and pointed to the young man who'd been lurking behind him. "I'm here about Reinyn." 

Chichi blinked and stared at the boy Piccolo had brought with him. His lip was busted bloody and there were jagged brands in his neck and up one arm. The physical resemblance to Gohan was striking, but his posture was different almost sullen, and there were other things. Reinyn wore a uniform-like green jumpsuit that was caked in dirt, and he still had his tail. Chichi leaned to the side trying to catch his eye, but Reinyn wasn't cooperating. "Well, it's about time. You worried me and Gohan disappearing like you did. He's been looking for you every afternoon young man. Both of you come in and get cleaned up for dinner." 

It was tempting to turn Reinyn over to Chichi and leave, but Piccolo had a sneaking suspicion that Reinyn wouldn't stick around if he did. Somehow the kid had it worked out in his head, that he owed Piccolo some allegiance for not killing him. He couldn't exactly leave in good conscience until some things were cleared up, like why there was a Gohan look-alike running around. "We'll get cleaned up. Come on," Piccolo led the way to the back bathroom. 

In full mother mode, Chichi bustled in front of them and brandished a set of Gohan's clothes. "Change into these and I'll wash yours this evening." 

Reinyn felt flushed and hot, but he accepted the lemon smelling clothes. He had run away from this place, these smells and sounds, for a reason. Every step into this house was like deja vu or vertigo or some combination of the two sensations. This house stirred emotions and memories that he'd buried. Those ghosts freed from their graves, made him feel too many confusing things, things he couldn't even sort out enough to give them names like regret or shame or hope. Squeezing his eyes shut, Reinyn commanded his mind to stop betraying him. He needed to stay clear and focused. 

It was just pointless, putting himself through the remembering when this world would never be real, not for him. If he didn't owe Piccolo his life, he'd never have walked through that doorway. He wouldn't be here, listening to that woman who wasn't his mother. He wouldn't see the baby that wasn't his little brother tugging on his mother...Chichi's sleeve. His mother died before he could have a brother. The Saijens strangled her. He saw it happen. Why did he have to see all these things that could never be his? 

Piccolo jerked his head at the open bathroom door and waited for Reinyn to head in. It looked like he might bolt for a second, but he trudged inside. "Show Chichi some respect and clean yourself up properly." Staring at the closed bathroom door, Piccolo felt a twinge of conscience at the busted lip and assorted bruises he'd given Reinyn, but he had at least as many contusions from their encounter. Reinyn started the fight. Why should he feel guilty? "So, who is he?" Piccolo asked. Reinyn had known about Gohan and Chichi. Logically they'd know something about him. As much as Piccolo would try to deny it, he did have a streak of curiosity, especially when it came to his former student. 

"I don't know much. Gohan and Reinyn came tumbling through my ceiling with about half the creek a week ago. He ran off before I even got a good look at him. Gohan says he's from an alternate timeline." Chichi said. She lingered over the simple wooden door as though it might divulge some truth about the enigma washing up behind it. "It isn't every day that your son brings himself home for dinner. I'd like to help him for as long as he's here. He tugs at my heartstrings a little and I've only seen him twice now. He's my baby, but somehow wounded, you know. Do you see it?" 

Wounded? Twisted or wild seemed like better adjectives to Piccolo. It was all well and good for Chichi to feel compassion for Reinyn, but he could be dangerous. Hell he'd been two seconds from dealing Piccolo his very own deathblow in the wilderness. "He is Gohan then, in some form, but we shouldn't make the mistake of trusting him." 

"You think he's dangerous? He's Gohan." Chichi seemed offended at the thought that her son in any form might be dangerous. "Goten and I will be in the kitchen, so make yourselves at home when you finish getting cleaned up."

* * *

Gohan managed to get away from Master Roshi's before number 18 tried to kill all possible bachelor party conspirators. She and Krillin made a good pair, but she wasn't exactly a fun person to fight. She wouldn't hurt Master Roshi...much. Heading home, Gohan didn't even think to toss out a scan for his missing counterpart. He was too occupied with Krillin's news. It was happy news, great news. It stirred up sadness too though. His father should be at that wedding, the wedding of his best friend. He should be part of whatever bachelor party nonsense Master Roshi supplied. He should be there laughing with everyone. 

It wasn't going to happen though. Yamcha was going to stand up - be the second best friend and fill that hole for Krillin's big day. Maybe they'd raise a toast to Goku at some point during the wedding feast, but it wasn't likely. Toasting the dead on a wedding day was a little morbid, and it wasn't like Dad would want them to be sad. 

_ I am though._

Gohan came to Earth in his front yard and plopped down in the thick green Bermuda grass. Where was his dad? Sure he was dead, but he should have checked in by now. You don't just drag your child into a cosmic-scale temporal mess and not tell him how it all worked out. Maybe it hadn't worked out? Maybe something had gone really wrong and the afterlife was still cut off from reality? Maybe his dad hadn't contacted him because he couldn't. Or maybe Gohan was just being stupid, waiting for an all clear that wasn't coming. They put his doppelganger back, fixed time, and hadn't quite bothered to let him in on it. 

Aromatic spices drifted enticingly out the kitchen window and Gohan breathed deep. It wasn't like there was anything he could do about time-space disturbances from his yard. He'd just have to be patient, and have faith in the powers that be. They would fix things, whether he got a play by play account or not. 

His stomach growled low and Gohan rolled to his feet. There were mundane things to be dealt with, like dinner and algebra. Let his dad and all those pretty colored Gods worry about time and doppelgangers. He had a life to live. Instead of the evening report on not finding Reinyn, Gohan headed inside with wedding news on the tip of his tongue. 

The sight that greeted him was as strange and tense as any gathering he'd ever seen in his mother's living room, possibly excluding the dinner party with Vegeta and Bulma. Piccolo was taking up most of their floral-print sofa. His arms were crossed, and his expression was closed and immobile. Directly to his right, Gohan's elusive double seemed to be trying to disappear into the overstuffed cushions. Reinyn was staring raptly at the carpet between his feet as though the sight across the room didn't bear looking at. He was wearing one of Gohan's study-outfits but the ensemble did little to make him look less wild. Chichi didn't seem to notice that Reinyn was studiously avoiding looking at her. She was chattering on about dinner, pork roast and fresh potatoes from the smell. Goten was bouncing on her knee, a gleefully happy grin on his chubby face. 

"Gohan, there you are," Chichi said. Her smile was a touch too wide and didn't quite pass for the gracious hostess she was going for. "Look who's here for dinner. Piccolo met Reinyn today and brought him home. Well if you'll keep everyone entertained, I'll get dinner on the table." 

Chichi handed off Goten to her oldest son and escaped her silent houseguests. "No problem, mom," Gohan said. Entertaining those two was a task easier accepted than done. Gohan was at a loss for appropriate small talk for mystery-man Reinyn, and his former mentor. The last time he'd tried to entertain Piccolo, he'd been approximately five years old; mid-air dancing and whistling had seemed like a good idea. Reinyn was a whole different ball of wax. He was a peer sort-of. "Hi guys. Reinyn, where have you been all week? I was looking for you." 

Reinyn shrugged, slightly more comfortable with Chichi out of the room. He was becoming more accustomed to the replica of his childhood home. He didn't quite feel like the wind was knocked out of him every second anymore. "I was in the woods. It was peaceful there." 

"Yeah, the wilderness, it's peaceful after you teach the T-Rex herd a little respect." Gohan grinned, warming up to the topic of conversation. "There's no way tail-steak roasted over an open flame compares to mom's cooking though." Pausing for some response from his guests, Gohan's smile faded. He already had a lesson in how close-mouthed Reinyn could be, and Piccolo had his patented stoic-stare in place. He might as well be talking to rocks for all the spontaneous response he was likely to get. Direct questions would fare better as far as getting responses, but inquisition style conversation wasn't really fun for anyone. Anything akin to a polite conversation was probably doomed to fail, but his mom would expect the effort, so Gohan tried to move his efforts on to Piccolo. "How have you been, Mr. Piccolo? You met Reinyn in the wilderness today. How did that go?" 

_ How did that go?_ Reinyn absently fingered the scab on his busted lip and actually smiled. It would be interesting to hear Piccolo's interpretation of events. He owed the green fighter his life, a debt he could settle in combat...if he wanted to. The way his mental stamina was suffering in this place, he'd probably just lose again. Besides, he'd already decided there wasn't any point in fighting, not here. 

Piccolo grunted and cut a glance at Reinyn. Either Gohan hadn't noticed the minor contusions from his guests' earlier encounter or he was curious about the fight. Judging from his slightly uncomfortable smile, he was just groping for something to talk about. It had taken Gohan a long time to become comfortable with silence. As a child, he had forever been chattering. Even in the wilderness, he talked to the animals and the plants, investing them with the souls and voices he had been deprived of by isolation. After years of training and fighting, Gohan let some of that vulnerability go. He finally seemed able to just exist. A few weeks at home with his mother, and Gohan was talking to hear the noise again. "We talked," Piccolo said simply. 

Chichi peeked in at her guests from the kitchen and her heart fluttered in her chest. Like a proper man of the house, Gohan was leading the conversation. Having experienced the stark silence of their guests first hand, Chichi wasn't surprised that Gohan was carrying the load of the interchanges. It was a change from the status quo, a good change. Piccolo and the rest of the over-powered fighters for the Earth had taken her inquisitive precocious son and made a pensive indrawn champion out of him. The fight with Cell saved the world, but had seemed to seal the deal for Gohan. He misplaced his smile and his laughter. The boy they brought home to her was practically a stranger. She offered him his old rituals, his old books. 

Throwing himself into his studies was a familiar escape. Part of it was grief. Gohan lost his father, but that wasn't the whole picture. She could tell that much, and she was grieving too. He gave up his childhood to be a warrior, a savior. Tonight's quick conversation and shy smile gave her hope, hope that he might let himself be a child again. She'd been waiting for that smile. 

Chichi shifted her attention to Reinyn and the happy relief she'd felt for her son shifted to sincerest pity. If Gohan had seemed too old and withdrawn when he came home to her, Reinyn took the concept to a new level. Eleven year old boys weren't supposed to have eyes like that – cool, detached, vacant. Chichi wasn't buying the act though. His cold facade wasn't perfect and she'd seen emotion in his eyes. Granted, it looked a bit like terror. He almost seemed afraid of her and the home around him. The whole thing just made her sick at heart. He was a mystery, a wounded baby. She wanted to help him. He probably wouldn't be around long enough for her to make a difference for him, but it didn't mean she couldn't try. In her experience, the best medicine for wounded children was normalcy. Even with her crazy family, Chichi could do normal. "All right guys. Dinner is served." 

"Hallelujah," Gohan said under his breath. He had thought a dinner with Vegeta and Bulma as guests was work. Well that was before he tried to entertain these two. Chichi would give him a little relief now. With his mother back in the conversation, no one else was likely to get another word in, possibly excluding Goten. He wasn't really talking yet, but he loved to gurgle and shout nonsensically. Strapping his brother into his highchair, Gohan made faces eliciting little peels of laughter from Goten. The average human baby would have been a lot older before they'd have been sitting up in a high chair, but Saijen hybrids seemed to mature a bit faster. 

The spread of food Chichi had set out was almost overflowing the table, and Piccolo had to remind himself that she was accustomed to accommodating the appetites of Saijens. Waiting for Reinyn to choose a seat, Piccolo took one adjacent to his new acquaintance. He didn't trust the kid, and he wasn't letting him out of arm's reach, particularly with a helpless baby present. 

Everyone found a chair, and Chichi started filling a small yellow bowl with soft foods from the table, like stewed potatoes and carrots from the soup. "Alright boys, dig in now. Start moving this food around the table. There's more in the kitchen if we run out." 

Gohan nodded to his guests and shoveled a huge portion of potatoes onto his plate. He offered the bowl to Reinyn, but he just stared at the potatoes like he didn't know what to do with them. He felt out of place and lost. Proper manners for a meal at a table weren't always a mystery to him. He remembered just enough to know he could easily make a fool of himself. His first instinct was to claim inappetence and avoid the issue of his ignorance, but the rich smells, aromatic and spicy, had his stomach rumbling their protest to his proposed lie. Resolving to watch the rest of the diners for guidance, he accepted the bowl and shoveled a spoonful of the potatoes out, careful to match his pile approximately to Gohan's. 

Missing the hesitation over passing the potatoes, Chichi gave Goten his bowl of food and waggled a finger at him. "Eat it. Don't throw it." It was a useless request. Goten would eat until he was full, and then he'd do what seemed the most fun, smoosh or throw the leftovers. "Well, growing boys get milk with dinner, but do you have a preference, Piccolo? I poured you water." Chichi hesitated long enough for Piccolo to nod his approval of the beverage. "Good then." 

Carefully loading his plate, Reinyn tried to keep his attention shifting between Gohan, Chichi, and Piccolo. He suspected a rather pointed inquest was brewing. These people would want some answers, some indication of who the stranger in their midst really was. He had no intention of enlightening them, even if Piccolo asked, life-debt be damned. They'd just have to fight again if he pushed the issue. 

The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and Reinyn decided to exclude Chichi from his surveillance sweeps of the table. She kept smiling at him with her pity-filled mother-eyes. She shouldn't be able to wrench his heart like she did, confusing him. Staring at the food on his plate, Reinyn pounced on the one emotion Chichi evoked in him that wasn't confusing. Resentment. It was a familiar emotion, comforting almost. He didn't need her pity. She wasn't his mother, and she had no right to treat him like a child. The condescension alone was more than he would put up with from anyone. If Piccolo wasn't sitting there, if Reinyn didn't owe him...he could be a hundred miles away from this place back in the wilderness. He could be at some semblance of peace. 

Did he really want to be a hundred miles away? 

Why hadn't he run farther in the first place? He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like memories and dead emotions clouding his judgment. Who wanted to be confused and to hurt? He didn't want to hurt. The frightened voice inside that precipitated his initial flight chimed in to his internal debate with its old paranoid refrain...couldn't she see? He'd been so sure Chichi would see what he was with her mother-eyes. She should hate the Saijen killer not pity him. Couldn't she see? 

Piccolo's eyes on him kept him from jumping up and running again. Reinyn forced himself to breathe, to calm down. He needed to be objective, proactive, logical. She couldn't see what he was or what he had done. She wasn't even his mother. 

Waiting for the food to stop traveling and the diners to get started, Chichi cleared her throat a little and tried to catch Reinyn's eyes again. He seemed determined to stare at his dinner. "So," Chichi said. "I pulled out our extra bunk earlier, Reinyn. You are planning to stay the night, aren't you? I understand you aren't sure how long you'll be stranded here. I wouldn't feel right if you went back out on your own. If my Gohan were stranded on your world, I would hope you and your family would look after him." 

Instead of the inquiry Reinyn had been preparing for, Chichi opened dinner conversation with an invitation? This woman was where he'd gotten his bizarre penchant for protecting strays, Reinyn told himself. If Gohan had been stranded in his home, well, that would have been interesting. His home was a universe away and likely in total chaos, at least within the bounds of his dormitory. Without their benevolent dictator, all those children he'd been protecting were probably at varying stages of hamburger, victims to the jackals he'd taken such care to suppress. Chichi wanted to treat him like a stray, a harmless child in need of her protection, but who did he need protection from? She really couldn't see him. She only saw the face of her innocent son, Gohan. She suffered from the same delusion he'd relieved Piccolo of. She honestly thought he was the boy she raised, her baby with a different haircut. "That probably wouldn't be a good idea," Reinyn said. "I mean, thank you, but I'm fine on my own." 

"Nonsense," Chichi said. "Being able to survive out there doesn't mean you should have to. I'm not going to take no for an answer. Save your breath arguing. Surely you know how stubborn I can be?" 

"She's not kidding," Gohan said around a mouthful of peas. 

"Manners," Chichi snapped. "Swallow. Then speak." 

She was right, Reinyn decided. Why argue? He didn't have to win an argument to leave when he got ready. The whole dinner would pass quicker and easier if Chichi at least thought she was getting her way. "Fine, I'll stay." 

Piccolo had to bite his tongue to keep from vetoing Chichi's invitation the second he heard it. They knew next to nothing about Reinyn, except that he was strong and happened to look like Gohan. He shouldn't be taken lightly, or necessarily invited into the Son home. Chichi was being reckless. He'd told her not to make the mistake of trusting her son's double, but she didn't seem to have heard him. If Reinyn was going to stay here, Piccolo would just have to stay close and keep an eye on the situation. 

With his resolve set upon flight, Reinyn settled in to enjoy the dinner he'd been forced into. Conversation continued around him sporadically, but thankfully his hosts let him be for the remainder of the meal. He watched and emulated Gohan's efficient use of spoon and fork and knife. It wasn't a perfect execution, but passable. Chichi didn't shout manners at him anyway. Once he'd mastered basic utensil use, Reinyn set about enjoying his meal. It had been years since he savored these unnamed spices and textures. Unlike his initial walk through this home, Reinyn didn't let the sensory onslaught of dinner overwhelm him. He savored the experience without letting his mind wander down old deserted roads, confusing his soul. Reinyn knew who he was, what he was, and damn them all, he wasn't ashamed. 

Besides...it wasn't like she could even see. 

* * *

After dinner Piccolo managed to get Reinyn away from Chichi and Gohan for a real interchange. Piccolo had tried getting some answers to a few important questions after dinner like where the kid grew up, what he had been doing before coming to this place. Reinyn wouldn't answer any questions about his past, and Chichi wouldn't let the matter be pressed in her home. "You listen to me, Reinyn. I'm going to be close, so watch your step. If you thought I was a pain to fight, you don't want to start something with Gohan. Understand?" 

"I'm not going to stick around long, so don't bother worrying your green head about me," Reinyn said. "I just agreed to stay to appease Chichi. Stay out of my way in the wilderness, and everyone should be happy." Reinyn smirked at Piccolo and crossed his arms defensively. How had he lost to this low-powered antennae-brained cream-puff? 

"Hey Reinyn, come here," Gohan called. "You're bunking with me. Let me show you a few things." 

The two young men disappeared into the back of the house, Gohan leading and Reinyn following less than enthusiastically. Chichi was rocking back and forth with Goten in her arms. She met Piccolo's hard gaze and arched an eyebrow. "What is bothering you anyway? You have something against that poor little boy. I can tell. So spill it already." 

"He's not just a child. He almost killed me in the wilderness," Piccolo said. He had to be firm now and impress upon this stubborn woman the gravity of her situation. She was sharing her roof and the roof of her children with a loose cannon, possibly a killer. 

"Not a child? He's eleven," Chichi snapped. "From what I can see, Reinyn is the one bruised and banged up from your encounter in the woods." Goten whimpered protest to his mother's suddenly icy tone, and Chichi made her tone more civil. "It isn't that I think you're lying. I'm sure you fought with him, but he didn't kill you, and I can't believe he would." 

Piccolo didn't have any way to argue with faith. Belief that springs from something besides facts, is hard to dispute. Acting on her emotions to the exclusion of her brain, made Chichi almost impossible to deal with, particularly when it came to her children. He'd just have to stay close and watch like he'd planned. "Be careful. Tell Gohan I'll see him." 

Watching Piccolo make his dignified exit, Chichi tried not to be angry with him. He was just cautious and a bit paranoid. He meant well. She hummed to Goten and hiked him higher in her arms. Her baby plopped his head heavily on her shoulder, surrendering to sleep after his busy day. "I love you," she cooed. Settling him into his crib, Chichi felt a moment's worry. Could Reinyn be dangerous? Wasn't that the same as asking if Gohan could be dangerous? Shaking her head, Chichi headed back toward her boys. Nothing could make Gohan a danger to her family, and that resolution covered Reinyn in its absolute truth. "Boys, have you got things settled yet? I want you in bed in fifteen minutes. It's after ten already, and you have an early day tomorrow." He was more disgruntled than dangerous, Chichi thought to herself. Reinyn was staring at the pajamas Gohan had offered like they were completely ludicrous. 

Gohan smiled over at his mom in agreement. "I know. I know. We're getting there." Curiosity was sincerely getting the better of him by that point. Reinyn had played the mysterious stranger card so many times, Gohan was ready to scream. You couldn't ask him anything about himself. He just stared and waited for you to move on. He didn't even make the effort to lie. "I think Reinyn was just about to tell me why he doesn't like my pajamas." 

"It's nothing," Reinyn said. "I'd just like my clothes back. I usually sleep in them." 

"I don't think so," Chichi said. For a moment, Reinyn thought she had figured him out. She knew he was planning to make a quiet exit after his roommate fell asleep, but she continued oblivious to his shock. "That jumpsuit is ill-fitting, and filthy. I'm going to wash it and mend it and alter it tomorrow. You know, you look much nicer in those clothes you're wearing now anyway." She turned to Gohan on her way out the door. "Thirteen minutes and counting." 

Gohan tucked his pair of plaid cotton pajamas under his arm and headed for the closet. "I'll change in there and you can change or not. It's up to you, but that collar is pretty annoying to nap in. It's why mom chose it for study time." 

Ignoring the pajamas he'd been offered, Reinyn tugged at the clothes he'd borrowed for the evening. Chichi thought he looked nice? Not that he cared one way or another. Why would he care what anyone thought? He didn't care how he looked. If he got curious he could just sneak a peak at Gohan. They were practically identical. 

As though his legs weren't privy to his internal monologue about his obliviousness, he stepped to the other side of the room and confronted his reflection in Gohan's full-length mirror. Reinyn's first thought was that he didn't look like himself. No matter his unchanged face and hair, his self-image centered on a few basic immutable characteristics. He had two slashes in his neck, his name on his arm, and he wore the green of a half-breed. None of those things were apparent on the boy in his reflection. The high collar of the Chinese style black top concealed his neck, while its long sleeves hid his name. The dull green of a half-breed had no part in the simple black and white outfit Chichi had provided. 

With trembling hands, Reinyn fumbled the buttons of his shirt open. He let the garment hit the floor, and stared at himself, the real him. His shoulders and chest were just beginning to spread and muscle like a man. His stomach, flat and hard, rippled with pure muscle. Over the tapestry of his torso, the perfection of an athlete's musculature was marred by an assortment of scars. Some were puckered and white, others red and angry. The most dramatic wound a curved white path from his left shoulder nearly to his navel. Reinyn couldn't have cared less about his battle scars. The only scars that mattered were carved in his neck and across his forearm. He was Reinyn, survivor twice over.

* * *

After getting his pajamas on, Gohan counted to fifty before heading back into his bedroom. He was a little shy, and Reinyn might be a lot shy. He seemed to take unimportant characteristics that they shared to extremes, like the broody Saijen thing. Reinyn had that presence so thoroughly integrated into his attitude that he might well have studied under Vegeta. Except Reinyn claimed no mentor for himself, no past, nothing. 

The bedroom was dark and Reinyn was already curled under the covers on his bunk, when Gohan opened the closet. Tomorrow was another day, and Reinyn couldn't keep stonewalling them about everything. He would have to calm down eventually and trust someone. Banking back his curiosity, Gohan climbed into bed and found sleep almost immediately. His last thought was about Krillin and his wedding. He would have to remember to tell everyone tomorrow.

* * *

Gohan hadn't noticed the artfully twisted mass of sheets masquerading as Reinyn in his dark bedroom, so it was without inquiry that Reinyn made his second escape from the Son home. 

In the back yard, stiffly staring out into the great peaceful wilderness, Reinyn paused in his flight from the confusion of Chichi and Gohan's home. He wanted to leave, to be at peace, didn't he? He needed a cool head, to stay sharp. Diasheru wasn't going to be kind to a confused unfocused denizen. This place, however comfortable and welcoming wasn't his home. He was stranded temporarily, and he couldn't forget himself. 

The tree line was barely fifty feet away, and Reinyn trudged forward into its safety. He didn't continue into the deep woods. Instead he took a seat leaning against an old broad sycamore tree. It's gray and brown bark was exfoliated away revealing a white trunk, so bright it practically glowed in the moonlight. The strips of bark still clinging to the trunk crumpled under Reinyn's back like dead dried leaves. 

There was a weight in his pocket, a possession he should have abandoned a long time ago, but he had clung to it, kept it safe. He fished the item out and stared at the roughly spherical package. It was wrapped snugly into an envelope of synthetic green material, a swathe from his first uniform. With a tug at the top knot the material fell back revealing his Dragonball. Careful not to lay hands directly on the magic ball, Reinyn settled it into a bed of leaves and just stared. He'd invested that sphere with his hopes and prayers, his childish notions. His only comfort in the first weeks of his life on Vegeta, the ghost memory of his parents, lived in his Dragonball. 

Reinyn had sealed the ball and its magic away, untouched and untouchable. From the first killings, when the blood started to flow, he protected his Dragonball from that burden, taking the stains onto himself. He became Reinyn, a boy without hopes, or need of comfort. He left his fear and his tears, his weakness, behind. He wrapped every emotion that threatened his survival tightly away under a green cloth shroud. He became powerful and cool, above loneliness or regret, above love or hope. 

While he could never belong even for a short time in the home Chichi and Gohan wanted to share with him, Reinyn was almost relieved to leave his Dragonball behind. It was pure, untouched by evil. It deserved a better home than the dirty killer's pocket it had inhabited for so many years. Reinyn couldn't just leave without a word though. 

"I don't need you anymore," Reinyn said. "I kept you safe, and now you're back on Earth where you belong." The Dragonball looked like a seed to Reinyn, pregnant with magic and good will. He had sometimes imagined that his soul had left his body and lived in that ball with the souls of his parents. It was stupid really, a stupid magic ball. "I won't make you come back with me when the time comes." 

Reinyn stood and started to walk away, but he didn't get twenty feet before his forward progress had slowed and finally stopped. "I don't need you. There isn't anything left in me that could need..." ...a soul...a conscience. "I know right from wrong. I don't need a reminder in my pocket. I don't need the confusion your version of right and wrong taunts me with. I know how to survive, and I never could have made it this far playing by the rules. Your stupid rules: don't kill, don't fight, don't kill…I had to kill my enemies. Dying would have been cleaner, but a child doesn't understand that, not the way I do now." Reinyn spun and strode back to the Dragonball. He glared at it as though it had decried his actions, accused him of murder. "You can't call me evil, not after I took care of those children. I taught them to survive and protected them. How many of them lived because of my strength? It was always about survival. Always!" And Turnitz? Reinyn's inner voice was taunting him now. Had Turnitz died for survival? Hadn't she died for revenge? "I didn't want to kill Turnitz. I didn't enjoy it. Justice. Not revenge." It sounded like a lie to his own ears, and Reinyn couldn't seem to catch his breath. 

"I killed her, because she hurt me. She killed me first." Reinyn dropped to the ground, covered his head, and cried. It went against every instinct for survival he'd cultivated. Crying like the alien-born half-breed he was, Reinyn shrank inside himself. The kiln of death, Diasheru, had allowed him to forge a facade, an indestructible iron skin. He'd convinced himself that everything else was gone that the iron wasn't just a skin. He thought it ran straight to his heart, but it didn't. It was crumbling, tearing him apart. The Earth and Chichi and Gohan, they had rusted through his protection until he was lost, drowning in himself and his sins. 

And a pair of strong arms wrapped around him. They lifted him, and held him to a hard warm chest. "You're okay. It's okay."

* * *

Staring through the flames of his fire, Piccolo watched the child, Reinyn, sleep. He had stayed close as planned, watching and waiting for any trouble at the Son house. True to his word, Reinyn had slipped out a bedroom window and escaped into the woods. A human or a Saijen would have been able to watch the child's descent into tears, but with his Namekian ears, Piccolo had experience the event in full color and sound. 

Holding Reinyn, Piccolo tried to comfort the child, something he would never have thought himself capable of, but he had changed. He could feel Kami's spirit guiding him through the motions, the right words. And Reinyn started to talk, like a sinner to his priest, he told everything, sparing no detail. He told Piccolo about his life, his decisions, his children, and the casualties of war. Exhausted and for the first time seemingly smaller than his eleven years, Reinyn collapsed and slept for the intervening hours. 

Chichi was right. Reinyn was her baby, but wounded almost beyond recognition. And Piccolo had been right as well. He was a wild and dangerous little boy. What were they supposed to do with him? He was in no state to return to his life on Vegeta. How could they even send him back in good conscience? The Son household was definitely no place for him. He was too volatile. 

The boy's Dragonball was sitting in front of the fire, glimmering in the dancing light. His conversation with the artifact had reminded Piccolo of Gohan. The one-sided dialogue fell somewhere between childish and insane, but who could blame the kid. Piccolo had lived through his own brutalities, and he hadn't always dealt with them in a nondestructive perfectly sane manner. It was in a moment of empathy that he caught Reinyn's open eyes staring at him. "You should get some more sleep. Sunrise isn't for hours," Piccolo said. 

Reinyn sat up instead of taking Piccolo's advice. He remembered what had happened. He'd lost his mind and spilled his guts. Piccolo knew everything, and his reservations about the boy who had attacked him had likely shifted to outright disgust for the Saijen killer in front of him. "I should go." For the first time since finding himself stranded on Earth, Reinyn was scared to be alone. The voice inside might come back, sneering, accusing, hating. 

What the Hell was he supposed to do with this kid? Piccolo thought he saw a similar confusion in Reinyn's own eyes, as though he'd like an answer to that question himself. He couldn't just turn him loose, but could he help? He had his own experience with crushing sins, and regret. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could teach redemption, but maybe he could help Reinyn find his footing again. Maybe he could help him prepare to go back to his home. "I don't think you should be alone. You need a master. From what you told me, your training has been very unstructured to this point. Judging from the fight we had, you haven't had a decent day's instruction in your life." Piccolo nodded to himself, warming up to his impromptu idea. It was time to test his understanding of the social rules Reinyn lived by. "You owe me because I didn't kill you, and you're supposed to follow me. Correct? Well, I plan to train you, starting today." 

"Train me?" Reinyn shook his head quickly. "I don't want to fight, not here. I'm through with it." The voice inside, his new-found chorus of self-hate started again. Why should he stop fighting now? A little more blood couldn't hurt now. He'd killed enough to populate a world twice. What matter another war? At least he was good at killing. It was his special skill, his gift. 

"If you stop fighting, you're going to die. What will happen to you in Diasheru if you refuse to fight? This universe isn't your home, and the powers that be will come back for you eventually. You have to be prepared." 

"I have to fight and stay sharp so that I won't die? I've been telling myself that for days. But it doesn't matter anymore. Death isn't so scary. I should have let it end when I was little, before I'd killed anyone, but I was stupid and afraid to die." Reinyn smiled bitterly and scooted closer to the fire. "Could you do me one favor and leave me alone? I just need a little silence and a little time to enjoy it." The silence he rallied for acared him though he wouldn't admit it. He was afraid of the voice that had taken up echoing in his head. Once alone, there would be no escape from himself. 

Piccolo could practically smell the rot of the depression Reinyn was mired in. He'd decided death was easy, but it never really was, not for anyone. He planned to wallow in his apathy. Well this world had managed to erode his resolve, and the strength that had seen him through seven years of Hell. Maybe Piccolo could beat some of that back into him. He needed to wake up. "Are you ready to let the other children die? You protected them for so long, and you'll just let that go? They depend on you, don't they? You can go back there, and let that world kill you, but you're letting them die too." 

"Dying young isn't always sad, Piccolo. Sometimes it's a blessing." Reinyn would have continued but Piccolo had risen with a glare on his face. 

"You don't really believe that. I know you at your quintessential, Gohan. Whatever you call yourself, and whatever masks you dress it up in, you are Gohan. You want to save them. You can't help yourself." Piccolo started to walk away, and for a moment Reinyn thought he'd abandoned his training plan. "I suggest you get some sleep because we start your education at sunrise." 

Reinyn wanted to run away, to find a peaceful niche to hide in. Except that Piccolo was right. Those children's lives that he dangled like carrots had names and faces, and Reinyn had promised them hope and protection. There would be no peace, no quiet waiting. He owed those children, and God help him, he would kill for them, though it cost him his mind and his soul. 

* * *

** Author's Note:**

Well, it has been an extremely long time coming. Time has been short and the WIP list long, but school is almost over (forever baby!). You can just call me Dr. Deanine this time next year. Wa hoo! 

I'm feeling this story right now. It's nice and angsty, where my other big project is in a bit of a fluffy section. Has this story ever had a truly fluffy section? Hmmm...not yet. 

This chapter is filled with introspection and shifting points of view. It was a long time coming together. It's with relief that I post it at last. The next chapter should be easier, less scattered. I know where I'm going and getting there is getting easier and easier. 

As always, constructive comments are welcome. Well, any comments are welcome, but the constructive ones help me make better chapters in the future. 


	20. Fundamentals

**

Chapter 19 - Fundamentals

**

"I know how to fight," Reinyn screamed. Piccolo had been critiquing his every move for hours. Nothing he did was correct. He couldn't throw a punch, bob his head, or take a step without a derisive comment. "I've killed stronger, better men than you."

"You know how to brawl and no one here is disputing your ability to kill. I'm trying to teach you an art form," Piccolo growled. The kid had instincts and brutal attacks. He compensated effortlessly for the basic skills he was missing. If he threw a punch that overbalanced him, he used flight to correct the mistake. Instead of striking flawlessly and unpredictably, he depended on superior speed and brute force to see his attacks through. Most fighters would crumble under an onslaught from Reinyn, but Gohan or even Cell would take him apart and annihilate him. "Could I stay with you in a fight?"

"You stayed with me for a little while." Reinyn knew where the conversation was going the moment Piccolo asked his question. They'd been through the train of logic a dozen times already. If someone as comparatively weak as Piccolo could hang with him in a fight, maybe learning some basic fighting principles were worthwhile. They might save his life, or the lives of those underpowered children he fought for. "What did I do wrong that time?"

"You were off balance and you telegraphed your movements." With a sigh, Piccolo shook his head. Words just weren't working. He hadn't exactly had a lot of experience training fighters. Gohan, his one and only pupil, had been a blank slate. There hadn't been any bad habits to retrain. Reinyn was all about bad technique and communicating the problem was more difficult than he'd expected. "We're going to try something different: no power, no flying, and slow. Piccolo discarded his cape and turban so that Reinyn could see exactly what he was doing. With painstaking slowness he executed a series of moves: punch step step step kick kick punch roundhouse-kick roundhouse-kick punch step punch step. "Go slowly, with deliberate motions, with awareness for your center of gravity."

_ I see._

The en mass fights in Diasheru had often seemed like dances to Reinyn. The slow graceful walk through Piccolo demonstrated took that dance to a more refined level. "Slow," Reinyn said. "Balanced."

* * *

_ If g(x) is any polynomial, and r > 0, then the number of variations of sin in ( x – r ) g(x) exceeds the number of variations in g(x) by an odd number._

Gohan read chapter three's opening paragraph four times before he gave up on reasoning it out. He was too dang distracted and annoyed. Reinyn bailed on them again. This time he wasn't hiding. All Gohan had to do was think about it and he could feel his doppelganger in the wilderness with Piccolo. Tossing aside his pencil, Gohan started pacing his bedroom. He shouldn't be angry with Reinyn for refusing to stay in their home. It wasn't like he'd done anything terrible. Sure Chichi's feelings were probably hurt, and his curiosity was almost unbearable, but he shouldn't be angry.

"Mom," Gohan called. "Is lunch ready? I really need a break." Poking his head around into the kitchen, Gohan caught sight of a huge Saijen-size picnic basket. "What's going on?"

Chichi looked up from cramming a ham into the basket. She'd been cooking all morning since Gohan reported Reinyn's second desertion. Rather than take his actions personally, Chichi decided to try and take care of him from afar. She couldn't stop thinking about the other Chichi; how scared and worried she had to be. "You are going to check on Reinyn and Piccolo. Don't be gone all day, and be sure to invite them to dinner."

"Oh." Gohan couldn't quite believe his mother was sending him off for lunch without even asking if he'd finished his morning assignments. He hadn't finished them, not that he was going to volunteer the information. Going to check on Reinyn and Piccolo sounded like just the thing to clear his head. "I won't stay gone for long."

"You'd better not stay gone too long. You have a lot to do this afternoon." Chichi dropped the basket of food into Gohan's arms and opened the door for him. "Bye sweetie. Be careful." Chichi watched her son fly away with her carefully packed lunch and hoped he came home slightly less distracted. His focus had suffered from Reinyn's exit. Her lesson plan should have had him moving though half a dozen texts this morning, but Gohan had lingered over his mathematics, scarcely writing.

With a wet splat of stewed carrot, Chichi heard Goten finish his lunch. "No you don't." She swooped down on her giggling infant and robbed him of his new projectiles, otherwise known as leftovers.

* * *

Gohan weaved his way relatively slowly through the overgrown thickets of the outer wilderness. The bulky picnic basket got in the way of any meaningful speed. Fortunately, Piccolo and Reinyn weren't terribly far into the deserts of the interior wilderness. Gohan could feel them ahead, their energy flowing calmly. Breaking from the wall of shade and humidity provided by the trees, Gohan hit the sandy dry heat of the wilderness's wasteland.

Oblivious to the heat beating down from the midday sun and radiating back up from the desert floor, Reinyn and Piccolo were moving slowly through a combination of fighting moves almost like a pair of synchronized dancers. The mixture of anger and annoyance Gohan had been nursing all morning flared green with irrational jealousy. Why were Reinyn and Piccolo training together? There was another Piccolo in another timeline that should have handled any training Reinyn needed.

As quickly as his anger flashed hot, Gohan was ashamed. Reinyn was the one stranded on a strange world. He hadn't done anything assuming or even shared a room with Gohan for any length of time. He shouldn't begrudge the poor guy an afternoon training with a mentor Gohan wasn't even technically studying under anymore.

The two of them were still moving in slow deliberate synchrony. What form of training was that anyway? Piccolo never did slow motion exercises with him? Maybe Reinyn was showing Piccolo something?

Gohan came to Earth brandishing Chichi's picnic basket and waited for the guys to notice his arrival. Piccolo stopped first with a half smile for Gohan. "Your mother?" Piccolo asked.

"Of course," Gohan said. "She has to have been cooking all morning."

Reinyn stopped his balance exercise and watched the subtle companionship between Gohan and Piccolo. Where Gohan's bout with his personal green-eyed monster lasted less than a minute, Reinyn's jealousy just seemed to grow and fester the longer he lingered in this world. Gohan had everything, family, friends, a future. He was a hero. Like the anger and hate he stored away on Vegeta, Reinyn internalized his resentment. There was no good reason to act on it.

* * *

In Heaven: Lost and Found

And another one arrived.

The parents entered the lost and found, anxiously ringing their hands and two hours later they walked away with a soul, their child. Chichi watched their happy reunion with no small amount of resentment. She and her husband and their friends had been waiting for more than a week. Gohan was still listed as unaccounted for. No one seemed to know anything, and no one would talk to them. It wasn't fair. After a decade apart, the afterlife did not get to misplace her first son. It just...it wasn't fair. "Goku, I want you to talk to them again. We have to make them look for him. They can't leave my Gohan in the mish mash with the Saijens. Go on. The little pencil-neck just ignores me, but he'll speak with you."

"That's because I haven't tried to kill him yet." Every inch the obedient husband Goku approached a pale-blue bureaucrat, general manager of lost or misplaced souls. He didn't expect the man to help at this point but it made Chichi feel better to pester him periodically. "Excuse me, I'm checking on my son again. Has he been listed on a head-count yet? Is he still assumed lost in the Saijen jumble?"

The bureaucrat looked up from his terminal, cut his eyes at Chichi as though he'd like a chance to throttle her, and nodded at Goku. "Still misplaced. There has been a change though. I was going to come speak with you when I had a moment. The afterlife is getting things under control. They have started sorting through the mess from Vegeta. First priority were non-Saijens and those were mostly women almost all of which are waiting for children before moving on. I thought you might like to wait there with them. They're really in the same boat as you. There's a yellow ribbon of light outside just follow it to the new area."

"That's very considerate of you." And you get Chichi out of your waiting area, Goku thought. They had started sorting through the Saijens though, and that was great news. Except it make him sick with worry. The printout from King Yemmah tormented him with its stark numbers, and Goku was terrified of what his son would be. He'd seen too many Saijens, killed too many Saijens. After seeing hundreds of reunions between parents and children while waiting here, he knew what Chichi wanted and expected. Goku knew in his soul there wouldn't be a little boy running to Chichi's arms when they finally found their Gohan.

As long as they saw fit to allow Gohan into the afterlife with his parents, as long as their son didn't respond violently to his lost family...it could still be okay eventually, even if it broke Chichi's heart in the short term. "I have great news," Goku said. "They're sorting the souls from Vegeta. Gohan isn't accounted for yet, but they want us to change waiting areas. There's another place where souls from Vegeta that have been cleared for heaven are waiting for their family."

"It's probably a small room," Krillin said under his breath. Like Master Roshi and the rest, Krillin had stayed behind to support Goku and Chichi on their wait. Originally Yamcha and Bulma had been waiting for a child too. Now the nebulous cloud of light clinging to the pair, the soul of their unborn child, was waiting with the rest of them.

Chichi grinned and scooped Goten into her arms. "Really? Where do we go? Can we leave now?"

"Just follow me," Goku said. Let this be okay, he prayed silently.

The yellow ribbon of light led them in downward arc through the fluffy white afterlife clouds. The room it terminated in was bowl shaped like an arena. Humanoid women filled many of seats. There were pink women, green women, hairy women, hairless women, a hundred variations on woman and they all seemed to turn and stare at the party from Earth. "Can you see who's in charge?" Chichi craned her neck looking for a new bureaucrat.

"Look," Yamcha said. At the center of the arena, a glowing door opened and a pack of small children were ushered through by two muscle-bound indigo behemoths standing around ten feet tall. "What a pair of kindergarten teachers."

"If you're sorting Saijens you need the industrial size kindergarten teachers," Bulma said.

And Chichi spotted her bureaucrats. A panel of pastel middle-men and women swarmed forward and spoke briefly with each child. One by one the bureaucrats led the children into the tiers of seats to a waiting mother. It was just like Chichi had imagined it would be. Except, her boy wasn't going to be so little. He was nearly twelve, a big boy.

Chichi was so focused on the children below that she didn't even notice the hubbub building among the women around them.

"Are you okay? Do you need us to help you?"

A large band of the alien women approached Goku and Chichi's small group of friends and family. Chichi frowned quizzically at the lavender skinned woman who had spoken. "Of course I'm okay?" They had addressed her, but Chichi began to realize these women weren't really looking at her. They were focused on Goku, and not in a pleasant way either. There was murder in some of those women's eyes.

"He is a Saijen isn't he? I don't see what a Saijen man is doing here," one woman hissed.

"He is not welcome," another shouted.

"I can't believe one of them would be allowed into our afterlife."

Chichi didn't have to turn to know her friends were closing ranks behind her. "Ladies, I think you've misunderstood. Goku isn't like that, like them. He's a good man and a good father. He isn't a Saijen."

The lavender-skinned woman glared coolly and blinked her silver eyes. "I can sense it on him. I know what he is. He IS a Saijen."

A little boy, lavender-skinned like his mother, crept forward to peek around his mother's skirt. He stood staring at Goku, feeling his aura. That aura was one thing he remembered clearly from his short life, Saijen and strong but with light, with soul. That aura was his last hope before his bitter-clawed struggle for life ended. It wasn't exactly the same, but it was very close, a father to the aura which failed to save him. That little over-powered half-breed, Gohan, had been so sure his father would come for him. Aush sneered, an expression like his mother's. Well apparently Gohan had been wrong. "Mother, he's just like them. I can feel it too. He's just like his son."

"His son?" Chichi heard the little boy's course laughter before the crush of women pushed forward again. Cradling her baby Goten against her, she braced for the riot that was broiling and about to erupt.

Goku grabbed Chichi and pushed her behind him. He couldn't fight a mob of women and children. He couldn't let them hurt Chichi or Goten either. Silent as a statue, he bore the pressing, spitting, scratching mob and would not let them past.

"Stop this! The children!" an unseen woman shouted.

The mob seemed oblivious to the cries for peace, oblivious to the fact that the Saijen they wanted to lynch was protecting a mother and child from their rage.

Before things could get completely out of control the bureaucrats stepped in. Chichi was hunkered over, shielding Goten as best she could when the shouts turned to absolute silence. She tried to rise and see what had happened, but she couldn't move. An unseen force responded with equal-opposite force to every move she tried to make.

"Ladies, this type of behavior is completely unacceptable," a nasal voice droned over a bullhorn. "Allowing you to wait here for your children is a courtesy and a privilege. If you insist on rioting, we can send you off to the afterlife and let you find your children on your own time. We are going to unfreeze one of you there, and you can tell us what seems to have gotten everyone excited."

The riot was frozen in place as though someone had pressed pause on an instant replay. One of the bureaucrats picked an angry looking lady toward the periphery and tapped her back into motion. Short and stout, the woman's lower jaw jutted forward beyond her top teeth dramatically. She stamped toward the frail pastel demon who'd tapped her and growled out her reason for rising with the other women in riot. "There be a Saijen here. Bastard must have slipped through the cracks. We was just giving him an express trip away from our young ones. Dealing with them bastards in life, we had to. In death we refuse to."

"A Saijen is out here? I see that that might cause a bit of a stir with this crowd. I'll check and see if he has a right to be here." The demon lifted his bullhorn again and continued. "Even if he is a Saijen, he may have a right to be here, and if he does, I'll bounce anyone who tries to disturb him again." The immobilized ladies couldn't reply, and the bureaucrat started climbing through the mass of bodies, searching for the offending Saijen.

* * *

** Author's Note**

Well, I've officially decided to stop apologizing for late chapter postings. This chapter is really late and the next chapter is going to be late, I guarantee it. I just spent 600 dollars for the opportunity to take a test in a few months. Said test will determine if the last 4 years of vet school were sufficient to prepare me to be a doctor. Needless to say I intend to spend a lot of time studying for the test and very little time writing.

Now I would like to take a moment to respond to an anonymous reviewer. I doubt he'll be reading this since he left the review to chapter 1...but if you are reading this...

If this story exists in any form under any other name on any other web-site it is an unauthorized posting of my original work. PLEASE notify me of any other postings you are aware of so that I might seek recourse. Thank you.


	21. Boiling Point

**Chapter 20 – Boiling Point**

Brandishing an ice pick at the wall of frozen food in her chest freezer, Chichi tried to identify something that might be a roast. Out of the corner of her eye she could just see Gohan pacing in her kitchen, stepping over Goten absently every time he crawled across his brother's path. He hadn't offered to go back to his bedroom and resume studying. Chichi sighed deeply. Checking in with his doppelganger didn't seem to have helped his peace of mind. "So, are Reinyn and Piccolo coming to dinner or what?" Chichi asked. "I need to know how many roasts to thaw."

"No, I don't think they are," Gohan said. "I'm not sure though." Reinyn hadn't managed to say two words over lunch, and Piccolo just shrugged at the invitation to dinner. In the end, Gohan had felt like an interloper, unwelcome and unwanted. And that was just wrong. Reinyn didn't get to look at him like that, like he, Gohan, was somewhere he didn't belong when it was his world and his friend and his mentor. The guy had a lot of attitude for a guest in someone else's timeline. "I just wish Dad would show up and put everyone back where they belong, you know? He's me right, so I don't know how psychologically twisted this is, but I really don't like Reinyn very much. He acts like I'm pissing him off if I say anything to him, but I haven't done anything but try to help him. I mean where is all the hostility coming from?"

"I don't know," Chichi said. She started pecking away at the ice around what was likely a hunk of roast. "He isn't you, honey. He needs our help. I mean he'd rather be in the wilderness with Piccolo than home with us. Something's very off with Reinyn." Chichi stopped whittling at her freezer and spun around. Taking in the stubborn set to Gohan's jaw, Chichi smiled sympathetically. Reinyn was irking her son, less because of their differences than their similarities if she had to guess. He was probably feeling replaced with Piccolo and his own mother was acting motherly toward the extra-him. Sometimes she forgot that her son was only eleven, however smart and grown-up he seemed most of the time. Children had a knack for being irrational and territorial when it came to the important things in their lives, like their close friends and their family. "Reinyn won't be here long. You shouldn't let this get under your skin."

"How do we know he won't be here long? Where's Dad? He should have checked in by now. For all we know the afterlife is still isolated, and they can't fix it, and this is just going to be the way things are, and when we die, I don't know where we'll go because the afterlife isn't going to be there. And we won't see Dad again because he's in the afterlife that we can't get to." Pausing to take a breath, Gohan caught sight of his mother's face, and he wished he could take back everything he'd just said. She didn't need him to remind her that Goku was gone, and she definitely didn't need him to suggest that they might never see him again, even after death. "I'm sorry."

"Goku?" Chichi whispered. While Gohan ranted about the state of the nation, a ghost, her Goku, had appeared over his shoulder. A thousand questions, thoughts, and declarations flitted through Chichi's mind. Stumbling forward, she pushed past Gohan, and clutched at her absentee husband's shoulders. "Where have you been?"

"Dad?" Gohan stuttered. Mom was clinging to Dad so tight that her knuckles were white, like she was afraid he might disappear at any moment. Gohan grimaced at the thought, but she was justified wasn't she? That halo meant he wouldn't be around for long. Mom was crying, soaking Dad's shirtfront with tears she hadn't been able to share with her sons. She was shaking with grief for a husband so recently lost and now dangled in front of her like a cruel taunt from the afterlife. For the second time that day, Gohan felt like an interloper. He scooped Goten into his arms and slipped outside. His parents deserved a moment, several moments, if there was any justice in the universe.

* * *

Life was not fair, death was backlogged, and there wasn't any justice in the universe. Master Roshi caught a fairly revealing glimpse of some alien cleavage and was forced to amend his conclusion about the universe. Any place with silky green hills like that alien woman was sporting couldn't be all bad. The woman turned away, adjusting her top, and Master Roshi's mind clicked back on. He shoved his shades more firmly up on his nose and tried to focus on the small group of students and friends he was here to support. From where he sat at the fringe of the group, they all seemed to be huddled together around Chichi, Bulma, and the children. You wouldn't think defensive huddling would be necessary after death, but Master Roshi couldn't blame them for a little paranoia after the riot earlier. 

A riot over Goku, as ludicrous as that sounded, had already whittled their numbers by one. Poor well-meaning good-hearted Saijen that he was, Goku had agreed to wait elsewhere to avoid any further incidents. As nice and self-sacrificing as it all was, that left Chichi alone with only a thin veneer of support from a pack of friends who didn't know what to say to her. As far as Master Roshi could tell the huddle-close method of comfort might be cutting off Chichi's oxygen supply, but it wasn't doing much else. An invisible wall of tension and fear and grief walled her away from anyone who might try to comfort her. Goku had been able to slip through that wall, to touch his wife in her pain because he shared it; he understood it.

Master Roshi couldn't bring himself to participate in the half-measure, pseudo-comfort gesture, and huddle close with the rest of them. He felt empathy for Goku and Chichi's loss and their pain, but there were other tragedies here, grander and more heart rending than a temporarily misplaced soul, however long that soul had been misplaced. Master Roshi touched Ox's shoulder and nodded toward the crowd, silently communicating his need to get away. Ox nodded without abandoning his spot in the huddle.

Slipping into the sea of souls filtering through the aisles, Master Roshi disappeared easily enough. Being less than average height had its advantages, though he'd had a hard time getting Krillin to admit it at times. Steadily, he made his way up until he'd reached the highest tier of the arena. From so high, he could almost imagine that he was still alive and at a sporting event, the world martial arts tournament or a soccer game. Master Roshi was thankful for his sunglasses, thankful that no one would see him blink back the tears welling up in his eyes. He was dead. Everyone was dead and everything was gone. The thought was staggering if he let it in. His friends' tragedies, their lost children and lives were pretty insignificant stacked against the end of their universe.

As the elusive Turtle Hermit, Master Roshi had managed to spend most of his life apart from the bulk of humanity, but that didn't mean he hadn't lived or that he didn't have ties to the Earth. His greatest friends, more closely valued than any pupil, had swum in the ocean and flown in the air. The cycle of life and death he had watched from his island was over, and he didn't even know what became of those other friends, the sea turtle or the rabbits that lived under his porch. Did the afterlife have a place for all living things or was it going to be packs of people, harps, and clouds? An eternity with only people to keep a man company?

Master Roshi stared down at the sea of aliens and sighed. Time only would tell what the afterlife would hold besides interminable waiting.

* * *

No one had taken great notice of Master Roshi's quiet departure, least of all Chichi. She was still focused raptly on the doorway which would be returning her oldest son. At first the children spilling forth had been tiny, too small to be her son, but now they were older, adults even. Somehow they'd skipped over her son, missed him. Chichi wanted to march up to one of those incompetent bureaucratic demons and shake him until they brought her son. But violence wasn't very effective in the afterlife from her limited experience. 

Goku was so much better at getting information out of those slimeballs. Maybe that was the snafu? They probably brought Gohan to Goku because he was less likely to ream them out for taking so long. Chichi smiled, warming up to her theory, envisioning her son with his father, safe at last. She refused to entertain the thought that anyone would try to deny her son access to the afterlife or that he might still be missing.

And with an earsplitting whine of feedback, the bureaucrats addressed the assemblage. "Ladies, gentlemen, children, the bulk of the Vegetan sorting is now completed. Unless you are related to one of the four souls we are about to list, we'd like you to follow to purple ribbon of light outside to the afterlife. Any souls you were awaiting are either already in the afterlife waiting for you or they won't be joining you. Any questions can be addressed to the helpdesk before or after entering your designated afterlife. That's the purple ribbon of light right outside."

The people around her were beginning to chatter and grumble, to gather their children and continue the waiting their deaths had so far consisted of, but Chichi wasn't ready to accept defeat again. She wasn't going somewhere else to wait while new demons gave her the run around. Damn them all, her son was more important than this.

"The four souls' families we would like to remain for now are as follows: Graco, son of Sippo and Bagge; Sefter son of Tiet and Berah; Festis daughter of Teg and Winoh; Reinyn son of Goku and Chichi. If those souls' families could please make their way to the central arena we would appreciate it. Everyone else, follow the purple ribbon of light, thank you."

Chichi felt her father's heavy hand settle on her shoulder, a squeeze of silent support that lent her the strength to rise and start down the steps against the flow of alien mothers who were leaving with their children in tow. She didn't need to check and see if her friends were following. She knew her father was behind her, helping clear a path with his bulk, and her friends were trailing in his wake.

* * *

After the riot, when the bureaucrats bundled him away from his family, Goku had been excited, almost giddy. Instead of waiting on the periphery, he was going to get a front row seat to the _sorting_, and as frustrating as it was to leave Chichi behind, Goku just knew that from his new vantage point, things were going to be different. He'd be able to help find his son and make things right. 

It wasn't the first time he'd been wrong about how things were going to turn out.

The demons running the command center scurried around like crazed pastel ants. Just another piece of furniture, another obstacle in their lives, the demons scurried around Goku, doing their small mysterious jobs, keeping the afterlife flowing forward. Goku knew better than to try and talk with them, they either didn't hear or didn't care. And they most definitely did not want his help. He had offered enough times. Instead, Goku ended up watching things he couldn't touch or even understand most of the time.

Both information-lifeline and annoyance, a monitor dominated one of the command center's long walls. Like his very own afterlife-CNN, Goku spent his days scanning the sea of faces for any sign of his son. Death hadn't changed Saijens much that Goku could tell from his information screen. Virtually every frame that flashed in front of him showed a fight on some scale. No peace, no rest, just chaos and war. If anything, dying seemed to have pissed the lot of them off. Goku watched the command center's screen shift views to a group of warrior souls sent in to sort the saved from the damned. He stared at the new view, the new souls, and wished that he could be there, that he could help. Not helping was driving him crazy.

Goku just wanted to be there, in the middle of their stupid war. Somewhere among that sea of psychos, his son was waiting to be found, and he was the man to find him. Someone had to find him, and it needed to happen soon.

Time was running out.

It was a subtle thing, the winding down, but Goku could tell that the sorting wouldn't be continuing much longer. They had found the souls they were looking for and the rest were going straight to Hell. Not a disturbing proposition, if only his Gohan was sorted and safe.

Like an answer to his frustrated prayers, a short puce general supervisor headed out onto the floor. Goku recognized him, Felix, a demon who would talk to him. Before Felix could decide to leave again, as he always did sooner or later, Goku began weaving through the currents of scurrying demons. "Felix, you should let me go in after him, my son I mean," Goku said, not wasting his breath on small talk. "I know I could find him."

Felix's ample puce jowels jiggled as he shook his head, and he sighed deeply before answering. "You know we have the most efficient fetching demons available on the case. Sending you into that war zone isn't going to help anyone. Have some faith in the powers that be. We've dealt with the destruction of Vegeta twice now in this universe. Granted, last time we didn't have all the souls of an alternate universe coming in simultaneously, but I think we handled it well. Have some patience. We aren't sending them to Hell until everyone is accounted for."

...Accounted for, but not necessarily cleared for heaven. Goku didn't miss the phrasing Felix used, and he knew his son was listed on the borderline roster. "Most borderline souls actually make it to heaven, yes? I mean, how do you guys figure it out, with the borderline souls? How do you know which ones to let through and which to leave behind? Who decides?"

Felix shuffled his papers and bit his lip stodgily. "Now, you don't want to know that. It's pretty boring really. Ah, here come our demons now. They should have the last of the loose ends there, then we can get the dump over and done with." Without preamble four giant purple mastiff dog-demons appeared on the floor. Between them were three souls, none of which could have been remotely confused with Gohan. There was a young girl and two older men, adults.

"My son's not there," Goku said. He tried craning his neck to get a good look behind the demon dogs, but there was no sign of him.

"Sorry then. Your son must not have been cleared to enter the afterlife," Felix said.

Before Goku could choke a protest out, one of the subordinate demons interjected. "Sir, that's a negative, we still haven't located Mr. Son's son. The error has to have been a sorting tier above us. There is only a 0.00009 possibility that we missed him with that search."

Felix's puce skin visibly darkened until it was nearly blue. "Well doesn't that just take the cake? We can't close this sorting station without that soul. Blasted tier one sorters not sending me all my bloody souls," he growled. "I guess there's no help for it. Break out the F.I.D.O. He can find anything, anywhere."

* * *

Goten was digging an impressive hole in the back yard. By turns he ate a handful of moist black dirt and dumped the next down his shirtfront. Gohan was listening too hard, trying to catch a word or a phrase from his parents to distract his brother from the less than hygienic activity. When the door finally squeaked open behind him, Gohan knew his father was gone. He felt his energy fade from existence moments before. Instead of turning to face his mother, Gohan stared bleary-eyed at his brother and the dirt-game. 

"You could at least pretend to care if your brother eats his way to China," Chichi said. And her voice was almost normal, almost steady. "Your father is gone, and you'll be relieved to know, that the afterlife is back to normal. Things were apparently a little crazy up there for a while, but your father sent word as soon as he could."

"If everything is back to normal, then I guess he picked up Reinyn too?" Petulant as the question sounded in his ears, Gohan wanted to hear his mother say that Reinyn was gone back to his own life, far, far away.

"Your father said that they destroyed the alternate universe and everyone in it. I imagine...well I assume that means your...Reinyn is gone too." Chichi couldn't see Gohan's face to gauge his reaction to the news. To be honest, she'd been disturbed by the thought of an entire universe declared superfluous. Who was to say that some higher power wouldn't decide they were inconvenient and erase them someday? When she finally saw Gohan's face Chichi knew that this was more personal than that. Reinyn, a boy with his face, a boy he hadn't liked very much, had ceased to exist sometime today. And Gohan could be so sensitive sometimes. "Are you okay?"

No, he was not okay. The shame Gohan had felt earlier when he realized he felt jealous toward his doppelganger was nothing compared to the guilt he felt now. Reinyn was annoying and arrogant and rude. And he was dead. No, not dead, he didn't exist. Gohan had been wishing his doppelganger away so hard, and now that he was so completely gone that he would never return, Gohan couldn't help feeling somehow responsible. "I have to see Piccolo. He'll be wondering what..." As soon as he decided to check in with Piccolo, Gohan had searched for his distinctive fighter's aura, prickly and green, but Piccolo was not alone. The yellow starburst of energy that Gohan shared with Reinyn blazed on, still alive, still in existence.

"Honey?" Chichi couldn't read her son's expression at all. His face had gone blank like he was thinking, deciding what to feel.

"Reinyn isn't gone Mom." The jealousy and the selfish tendencies that Gohan had been struggling with over Reinyn suddenly seemed unimportant, stupid, and petty. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to lose one's universe, but Reinyn's was gone. It had hurt like Hell to lose a father, but his father still existed in the afterlife. His mother and friends and his world were still here. Reinyn's home and every connection he'd ever had were gone, rubbed away. "We have to tell him what's happened. I have to tell him." Whatever happened next, whether Reinyn was destined to live out his life for another 200 years or fade out of existence like his reality, Gohan was determined not to begrudge him another moment of life.

* * *

The world went black for a moment, and Piccolo awoke face down in the dirt. Reinyn was becoming more competent by the moment. Piccolo hadn't seen that last shot coming, and the kid did not pull his punches like Gohan tended to. It wasn't the first time Reinyn had managed to ring his bell and lay him out. Frankly, Piccolo was beginning to get the feeling that his new student might have learned all he could from their current situation. Rolling over, Piccolo squinted against the setting sun's glare. His pupil had resumed the basic balance exercises Piccolo had taught him. "You want to spar again?" Reinyn asked without breaking form. 

"That's enough for today," Piccolo said. "We have a dinner invitation, and we'll need a moment to clean up."

Reinyn fell out of his exercise and frowned belligerently. "Why are we going back there? We're training. I can catch and cook dinner."

"We're not going for the food. You need a faster, stronger, sparring partner if we're going to continue this. Knocking me on my ass isn't teaching you anything," Piccolo said. With a grimace at his pounding head he came to his feet. "I said get ready."

Rather than point out that he could at any time beat his current master into a gooey green pulp, Reinyn trudged toward the nearest creek for a bath minus the soap. Piccolo's demands while sometimes annoying and seemingly frivolous were like an effervescent rush of freshness to Reinyn. Being treated like a child was liberating.

The shirt Chichi had lent him was sweaty and torn. With a sigh he skinned it off and let it drop into the yellowed weeds near the stream. Reinyn didn't even blink when Gohan came to land on the opposite bank. Reinyn had felt his approach for the last several minutes, creeping up from his picture perfect home to intrude on the brief sanctuary Reinyn had found for himself in the wilderness. "If you came to harp about dinner, we were coming anyway. So, why don't you go on back home and study or baby-sit or whatever you spend your afternoons doing."

Gohan swallowed, unable to find the words to start the conversation he'd come out here to have. Reinyn was still playing the cocky recalcitrant guest, but Gohan wasn't even annoyed. How do you tell someone their world...their universe ended? "I heard from my mom who heard from my dad," Gohan started. "They fixed the problem with time and everything is back to normal."

Everything was back to normal? Was it already time to go back to reality? Just the thought of home sparked a dull resignation inside him, and Reinyn felt the weight of the world settling back on his shoulders. Gohan hadn't come to be possessive about his mentor or bully him into dinner with the folks. He came to send the outsider home for good. "I'll need my jumpsuit back before you send me off. If I show up wearing black, I'll be breaking a lot of social codes. Or do I have to go immediately?"

"No, I don't know." Gohan couldn't seem to look Reinyn in the eyes. God, it wasn't like he'd personally caused the guy's universe to end. This wasn't anyone's fault, and Reinyn deserved to know. He deserved the facts, the truth. Gohan looked Reinyn in the eyes and pointed up. "They destroyed your timeline, your universe. There isn't anywhere to go back to. I don't know why or even how it happened, but you're here and that's okay, good even. You're welcome to stay here for as long as...well as long as you need a timeline..."

Reinyn heard the words coming out of Gohan's mouth. He comprehended them right up until he said that bit about his universe ending. What the hell did he mean by that? His universe ended? "The kids are okay though. My kids are okay." Why was Gohan staring and not answering? Had he stuttered? "The kids in Diasheru 31454 D, my kids are okay."

"Everyone, everything, is gone," Gohan said. His words were spoken softly and slowly as though their cadence might cushion the heavy blow of their content. "I'm so sorry."

"Liar," Reinyn hissed. How dare that privileged white knight lie about his home and his family, his kids? How dare he say that they were all gone, all dead? How dare he? "Take it back."

"I can't. It's the truth. I swear to you," Gohan said. But Reinyn was not handling the truth very well if his transition to super Saijen was anything to judge by. Primal instincts kicked in and Gohan marshaled his own energy in defense before he consciously recognized the danger he was facing. "What are you doing Reinyn?"

"Don't you know the rules?" Reinyn growled. "It always boils down to a fight. You can take it back now, liar, or I'll make you wish you had."

**

* * *

Author's Note: **

Apologies for the protracted wait. More is coming soon. As always comments, opinions, and criticisms are quite welcome. There have been some very kind reviews left for this perpetually neglected little fic, and I just hope I can make the ending strong.

As a side note, Lady Eldealen is responsible for the art in my profile page right now. I think it's lovely and I found it inspiring to say the least. :)

Peace and Love.


	22. Civil Disobedience

**Chapter 21 – Civil Disobedience**

Jaw hanging open, Master Roshi stared raptly at a row of scantily dressed concubines lounging just a hands breath away. Some part of his brain registered an overhead announcement droning on, but he didn't really start taking notice until the women gathered their things and began moving away. Where was everyone going anyway?

Fortunately, Master Roshi caught the last bit of the overhead announcement. "The four souls' families we would like to remain for now are as follows: Graco, son of Sippo and Bagge; Sefter son of Tiet and Berah; Festis daughter of Teg and Winoh; Reinyn son of Goku and Chichi. If those souls' families could please make their way to the central arena we would appreciate it. Everyone else, follow the purple ribbon of light, thank you."

"Oh," he muttered. While he'd been _meditating_ they'd finished the sorting? It sounded like things were still not settled with Goku and Chichi's family, not that he was surprised at this point. Like a herd of stampeding oxen, the aliens were flowing rather purposefully out of the stadium. Master Roshi settled in to wait for things to slow down a bit, rather than fight against the formidable flow between him and his friends in the central arena. Behind his shades, he let his eyes slide shut for a quiet nap.

* * *

Golden energy starbursts flared like twin suns in the rapidly deepening twilight of the wilderness. Piccolo didn't have to wonder who was posturing to fight a stone's throw away, but he couldn't imagine what had set the confrontation off. He rushed forward as fast as he could propel himself but the energies were moving away one retreating from the other's berserker attack.

Of the worst case scenarios Piccolo had conceived in which Reinyn lost control, this wasn't the most catastrophic. Gohan could at least defend himself. On the down side, the kind of energy a Super Saijen bandied around could decimate a world. Even if Gohan wouldn't get himself killed personally, the innocent population of the Earth might not be as lucky.

Damn it, Piccolo fumed internally. He'd been so sure that things were going well. Reinyn had seemed stable anyway, but Piccolo had known better. Reinyn was not stable and Piccolo should never have let his guard down for a moment.

At least Gohan appeared to be keeping his head. He seemed to be leading Reinyn deeper into the wilderness, as far from civilization as possible. Now if they could just find a way to diffuse the situation so that...

And then there was one.

Piccolo hadn't seen any indication that the fighting auras met or that blows had been exchanged, but Reinyn or Gohan had vanished from his perception. Maybe Gohan had decided to hide from Reinyn rather than risk the fight? Maybe Reinyn was back in his own timeline? Piccolo didn't waste his time guessing. He sped forward toward the energy signal he still sensed to find out what had happened.

* * *

Reinyn, a living freight train of golden menace sped forward recklessly toward his match, the white knight, the liar. It would be good to see Gohan dirtied up a bit, some blood on his knuckles, a reminder of who he was, that he wasn't any better. Reinyn screamed his frustration at being forced to chase his adversary. Didn't the little hero have enough pride to stand and fight? The bastard had the nerve to say his kids were dead, that his world didn't exist. Reinyn was going to make the useless hero eat his damn lies.

Unlike his twin, Gohan was not looking forward the experience of facing himself in battle. When Reinyn sprang at him he'd already taken flight toward the deepest reaches of the wilderness. It wasn't that he was running away to be running. The rabid battle cry Reinyn periodically tossed at him promised that he would chase forever if necessary. Gohan had his reasons for relocating though. If they were going to have a Super Saijen smackdown it was not going to be anywhere near his mother or his little brother.

Telling Reinyn about his timeline's demise had been necessary, but Gohan couldn't shake the feeling that he had handled the entire situation wrong. Maybe he should have told Piccolo and let Piccolo tell Reinyn. Maybe he wouldn't have lost his head and attacked if the news had come from someone closer to being a friend.

Perhaps the worst part of it was that Gohan understood the all consuming anger and insanity that was driving Reinyn. Grief brought out the worst in both of them. It purified and perfected their special genetic gift for annihilation.

Before Gohan could find an obscure clearing in which to face Reinyn, before he could offer a substrate for him to vent his grief, the freight train was gone. As though he had never been there, Reinyn had slipped away. Gohan spun in the air and came to a stop, but his eyes confirmed what he'd sensed. The boy he had been wishing away so fervently had finally vanished.

Gohan was still hovering, still glowing golden, when Piccolo arrived on the scene. "He's gone," Gohan said, answering Piccolo's unspoken question. "His timeline was destroyed and now he's gone too. When I told him that his timeline was really gone, he lost it, Piccolo. He wanted to fight, as though I could take back what I'd said, and make it untrue. He just...lost it."

So Reinyn was gone then? Piccolo was only a little ashamed of the relief that washed over him. A young man was dead, but their timeline was much safer without that volatile child in it. "He didn't belong here, and he was a somewhat dangerous..." Piccolo trailed away, another emotion unseating his relief. He met Gohan's morose gaze with his own sorrow. "I'm going to miss him."

Gohan knew the guilt he was feeling over Reinyn's demise was irrational and pointless, the same way he knew that his father's death wasn't really his fault. His head just had a hard time getting through to his heart sometimes. "I wished him away quiet a bit over the last couple of days, and now he's gone." Slowly Gohan let his energy slip away until he was standing on the scorched sands of the central wilderness. "I'm glad you were there for him, Piccolo. I think he needed a friend."

No, Reinyn hadn't needed a friend, Piccolo mused. He'd needed a parent and a vacation and a psychiatrist. Gohan on the other hand needed someone to smack some sense into him. Chichi would have been amused to realize that she and Piccolo agreed about one key trait in her son: the kid was entirely too sensitive. "This isn't anyone's fault. There's no point second guessing a few less than generous thoughts you had about an arrogant, disrespectful child. Reinyn was daring you to hate him, and all you managed was a smoldering dislike. I'd say you were pretty damn generous at that."

A smile played across Gohan's lips briefly despite himself. "He didn't like me very much either, did he?"

Envy, disdain, and a dash of inane aggression, to say Reinyn didn't like Gohan, that was a nice way to put it. Piccolo grunted and shrugged.

"Reinyn did not like you even a little."

* * *

Instead of fighting the force that blindsided him and knocked him out of reality, Reinyn surrendered to it. Something had come to finish cleaning up the mess. He was the last piece of the defective universe, the dead universe. Reinyn couldn't hold onto his anger or his energy. Everything meant nothing. No one would remember any of it. No one cared. Evil, sad, good, bad, it all boiled down to oblivion and now it was his turn. End me, Reinyn thought bitterly. Just end me now and get it over with.

But the creature did not bring an ending. With a gentle nudge it deposited Reinyn into a soft bank of clouds. The four-legged creature was tall and lithe and slobbery like some mad scientist's cross between a gazelle and a blood hound. The creature's shaggy peach fur shivered with its rapid prancing movements. In the time it took Reinyn to blink and look around the creature had vanished, but he wasn't alone.

"Reinyn. Age 11. Human Saijen hybrid. Classification borderline. Please stand and follow me." This new creature wasn't nearly as fantastical or bizarre as the gazelle-hound. She was a pinpoint of white light moving steadily away. Reinyn didn't know for sure, but this felt like the afterlife, like the place he'd been briefly with Gohan. Did this mean that the end of the universe hadn't resulted in oblivion? Was that light leading him to his corner of Hell? With a resigned sigh, Reinyn followed the light.

Oblivion would have been simpler.

* * *

A sensation like falling chased Master Roshi back to consciousness a moment before he would have toppled off his seat in the sorting stadium. Stretching his creaky old bones, he yawned appreciatively. He hadn't managed that nice a nap since dying. Things had definitely quieted down since he went to sleep, but the stadium hadn't quiet emptied out as thoroughly as he'd expected.

Everyone hadn't followed the purple ribbon as they'd been instructed. There were patches of people who seemed to be settling in, waiting. Maybe Goku and Chichi weren't the only people getting the run around from the afterlife?

Cautiously, Master Roshi made his way toward one of the small groups who had remained behind. While not a Saijen like Goku, Master Roshi knew he was a virile warrior, and those women might overreact to his presence. The moment proximity permitted, he settled in to eavesdrop.

"We should head on to our afterlife already. I don't care what Igue wants, Mother. This is ridiculous. My children and Shai's children, we're heading on. We will see you when you tire of this waiting."

Master Roshi couldn't tell which girl in the knot of souls had spoken but two matriarchs broke away from the group he'd decided to approach and took a good number of the souls with them. Among the souls that remained behind, were a mixed bag of young girls, women, boys, and a few rare men. If he didn't know that these were half Saijens, Master Roshi would have assumed they were the real thing. From the energy bristling around them to their unruly spiked hair they looked and felt the part of Saijen, until you looked closer. Some of them were too thick and heavy-looking and a few had striking violet eyes. Master Roshi spotted the matriarch who remained. Not much of a looker, more like a broad squat toad than his idea of a concubine, she stared out toward the central arena, her wide violet eyes never wavering. "You are all of course free to go with my other daughters, your sisters. My youngest is waiting here, and I will come along with him soon enough."

"No one wants to leave you, but mother, we don't even know this Reinyn. Why are we waiting for him?" one the men asked quietly. "I can get Igue for you. I can make him come."

"Wait or go. You will leave my son and I alone," the matriarch commanded.

Master Roshi's cautiousness trumped his curiosity, and he abandoned the opportunity to question the waiting aliens. He'd heard quite enough just eavesdropping. He'd heard about Reinyn.

There hadn't been an opportunity for any real private conversations between he and Goku over the course of the days they'd waited. But in a moment of near privacy Goku had definitely mentioned Reinyn, the name the Saijens gave his son. _"Did you know that the Saijens called Gohan Reinyn? I wonder why. I wonder it means."_ Around that time Chichi was attempting homicide on the Lost and Found's general manager and the conversation had dropped, but Master Roshi found himself pondering a similar question. If Reinyn was Gohan, Goku and Chichi's son, why were these other half breeds waiting for him? Who was Reinyn to them?

* * *

"Goku, they're doing it again. They aren't trying," Chichi hissed under her breath. The deities had summoned her family forward with a handful of other families and they'd made her watch those other family's reunions, but they couldn't seem to find her baby. The little bastards had droned on about sorting tiers and how none of it was their fault, but Chichi was beyond caring whose fault any of it was. Someone was going to produce her son, or she was going to rip the afterlife apart cloud by cloud until she found him. "Which one is in charge? You've been down here watching. Which one do I need to talk to?"

"If we get rowdy Chichi, they're going to send us off to wait in the afterlife proper, and we'll have to work a lot harder to find Gohan," Goku whispered. "They sent F.I.D.O. after him. Everyone seems to think we'll have Gohan back within the hour."

"What the Hell is a F.I.D.O.?" Chichi hissed. She didn't wait for Goku to answer, instead stammering more hopeful questions. "An hour? They really said an hour?" And Chichi could feel her heart bounding in her chest. Finally, it was all going to be okay.

As if in answer to Chichi's prayers, the gazelle-hound made its silent entrance into the command center.

"What the heck is that thing?" Yamcha asked. He moved protectively in front of Bulma and his child, but the gazelle-hound showed no interest in the souls around it. The creature dropped a sheet of paper in front of the short puce supervisor, Felix. Then the gazelle-hound promptly disappeared.

"That was the F.I.D.O.," Goku said. But where was Gohan?

"Oh dear," Felix moaned. He ripped the sheet of paper neatly in half. "This is just PEACHY!"

"What?" Chichi asked. "That thing was the F.I.D.O. It was supposed to have my son, so where is he?"

Goku winced at Chichi's tone. Her voice was too calm and composed for the questions coming out of her mouth. "I'm sure he's coming. I'm sure they found him," Goku said.

"Sure we found him, but he's not coming," Felix growled. "Just go on to the afterlife. Your son will not be joining you anytime soon." He turned to one of his subordinates and dropped the ripped paper in front of him. "Get these people out of the command center. We have a problem."

"I'm not leaving without my son," Chichi said. She passed Goten to his grandfather and strode forward to the supervisor who was trying to dismiss her yet again. "You found my son. Take me and my family to him. Now."

Goku hadn't said a word to support his wife's crusade. He couldn't seem to absorb what Felix had said, that Gohan wasn't coming and everything that implied for the borderline soul they'd been searching for. Gohan wasn't coming to heaven...Reinyn was going to Hell.

And it wasn't going to be okay.

Goku shook his head and moved forward beside his wife. He promised her that he would bring her son home, and he was not going to fail her today. "No," Goku said. "You don't understand who my son is or what happened to him. You don't get to send him to Hell. I won't let you."

"Look, people, we were nice to you, inviting you into our command center, but I'm not going to let you dictate demands. You were here by the whim of my generosity, and my generosity is at an end." Felix didn't seem to be aware of the warriors closing ranks behind him. "Would someone show them where to go?"

"Sir," one of the subordinates stuttered. "I don't think they want to go."

Felix finally noticed Goku, Yamcha, Krillin, the Ox King, and the threat their postures promised. He staggered backwards, his puce jowls jiggling as though his jaw had come unhinged. "Failsafe plan C," he managed to choke out.

"Sir, that doesn't work in here. It only works out there," another subordinate offered pointing toward the arena seating. "Should we send for backup?"

"I guess that depends on how much backup you can muster. If you're planning to send Reinyn to Hell, you have bigger problems than a couple of warriors from Earth." Master Roshi made his way into the command center with a miniature army following in his wake. Children in green jumpsuits varying in age from barely out of toddler pants to verging on teenager crowded the room. "These guys are looking for him, you see, and they aren't going anywhere without him."

**

* * *

Author's Note:**

See only a week between chapters. Expect another chapter this time next week. As promised, I'm writing on this fic until the inspiration abandons me or I get to a better stopping spot, whichever comes first.


	23. Happy Ending

**Chapter 22 – Happy Ending**

The afterlife, like any great functional bureaucracy had layers of contingency plans and an extra failsafe for every possible catastrophe. A rebellion could never go unnoticed by the establishment of the afterlife, but like any functional bureaucracy it took no small amount of time for a suitable contingency plan to fall into place...

And sometimes when you give fate a little time, she changes everything.

* * *

Reinyn wasn't sure where the light had taken him. The new place was rife with fluffy clouds and too much gilt furniture. Unlike before, this time he'd been left alone. Maybe this was going to be his version of Hell, tacky furniture and a lot of waiting? "So this is what it's like to be dead?" Reinyn asked. He hadn't expected an answer, but apparently his waiting was over.

One of the many pastel demons who kept the afterlife running had arrived. This blue demon shoved his horn-rimed glasses up on his nose and snorted derisively. "This is actually nothing like what it's like to be dead. You my friend are still alive, and that's a real problem." The demon paused to scribble some notes on a clipboard. "My name is Roland, and I'll be handling your situation. You're supposed to be dead, but I can't make that happen. You see we don't kill people here, we manage their souls. Fate handles death, and somehow you evaded her when your timeline was destroyed. Until we can contact her about getting your lifeline snipped, you're going to have to wait here."

"I'm not dead?" Reinyn asked. "I didn't feel any different, so okay. How long a wait are we talking?"

"Fate's a busy lady, but I sent an emergency page, and we'll see." Roland tapped his clipboard decisively and headed for the exit. "Make yourself at home, but don't leave the bounds of this room, capice."

* * *

Total anarchy ruled the 2nd command center of Vegetan sorting station number 2. Master Roshi had been quick to share a truncated version of the story his pint-sized legion had offered him when he found them malingering outside the central arena. They were members of a Saijen half-breed army, and Reinyn was the leader of their little family. Apparently, he was the kind of leader you stuck around and fought for rather than the kind you bid bon' voyage on their sentence to Hell.

Of course, Chichi didn't like the Hell-talk. A bad case of denial in Master Roshi's opinion, but he wasn't one to push. She was more than a little dangerous now that the kids had fallen into step under her leadership. She had them questioning pastel demons, fiddling with the odd afterlife computers, and searching the immediate area for clues. The kids took Chichi's orders enthusiastically, a little too enthusiastically if the small fires and sparks coming from the equipment was anything to judge by.

"Stop this you maniacs! You don't understand," Felix whimpered. "We're not sending Reinyn to Hell. We can't even judge him. Reinyn isn't dead, and we don't kill people in the afterlife. He's just waiting for fate to cut his lifeline, and then we can judge him."

Chichi cocked her head to the side menacingly. "If he's just waiting, he can wait here, with his family."

"Of course he can," Felix said. His nasal voice was insincere and placating. "Just let me call someone."

"I don't believe you," Chichi snapped. "You don't want to help my son or me or anyone. You just want to sort people like they're marbles. You want people to wait forever, but you don't care if they ever get what they're waiting for. Well, I'm not a marble, and I'm through trusting you people."

"I think she may have misplaced a few of her marbles," Krillin whispered to Master Roshi from the periphery of the madness.

"Yeah," Master Roshi agreed. "I wouldn't want to be Felix right now."

* * *

Nervous anticipation coiled in Reinyn's guts and he couldn't seem to sit still. He'd paced his waiting room three dozen times already, but there still wasn't any sign of Fate, the bearer of his death. He ought to be fighting. Someone was coming to kill him, but he couldn't shake a feeling of inevitability. His reality was gone. Where could he go if he wasn't dead?

At least it seemed that his reality had warranted an afterlife. He'd been so angry when Gohan told him that his reality had ceased to exist. The thought of his kids being wiped away without hope of an afterlife, the thought of his dead parents souls being obliterated, it had all been too much for him to handle.

Raised voices, were just audible outside one of the many doors into his waiting room, and Reinyn turned to face his fate. Roland burst through first, his blue face nearly purple from a deep flush. "He's all but dead. His reality is gone, and he's supposed to be dead. Just cut his lifeline and end this neatly."

A more slow moving incarnation of Fate followed in his wake. She was wrinkled and stooped, white hair drooping in stringy cords around her head. The woman smiled a toothless grin and shuffled to Reinyn's side. "Fate is not so capricious as to cut a lifeline just because it would make things neat. He's missed his date with my blade. When you miss your appointment with fate, your life finds a new path. I'll not cut it, not for you or Yemmah or any Kai you trot out." The hag tried to cup Reinyn's cheek with her boney claw but he step back out of her reach. "I'll see you soon enough, my annihilator. We are friends of old."

Reinyn watched the woman, Fate, retreat. He ignored Roland and his furious scribbling, chilled by Fate's familiar claim of friendship. If fate was present for the ending of lives, she did know him well, very well. "What does that mean? If I'm not dead, I don't have anywhere to go. I thought she was supposed to end this."

"Damn, fate, diva," Roland fumed. "I have to check protocol. We may be able to force the issue. I don't know." On his way out the door Roland tossed another order. "Keep waiting. Stay put!"

Reinyn frowned at the door Roland had left through and shook his head. Wandering off into the afterlife probably wasn't advisable, but Reinyn wasn't very fond of waiting or taking orders, and he was not about to wait for the pencil-neck to bring back Fate. He had no desire to face her again. With a rebellious smirk he picked a door to explore.

* * *

At the periphery of Chichi's newly acquired army, Igue watched the other half-breeds gradually destroy the afterlife's sorting station. The afterlife had singled out their leader, Reinyn, and they'd asked his family to come forward. Igue, like the other boys here, had taken that request personally. Reinyn was the patriarch of their family, their hero, their defender, a father. Anyone who doubted the effect Reinyn had on Diasheru, should have been there for the few hours he was gone before the world ended, when the strong lost all inhibition and tore through their ranks like furious animals. If the afterlife wanted to punish Reinyn, they would have to deal with his family first. Like Reinyn had defended them, his children could defend him now.

Igue craned his neck around to watch Chichi, their substitute leader. She was different than any of the mothers Igue had met before. She stood there next to her Saijen mate, taking charge, ordering her army around. Chichi wasn't without fighting aura, but honestly any one of the half-breeds present could have flattened her. The boys who stayed behind weren't the same boys who necessarily required a demonstration of superior strength before listening. They were willing to respect Chichi as Reinyn's mother and take her orders in his name.

"What's going on here anyway?"

Igue didn't turn to face the person who'd whispered a question at him, too focused on the goings on at the center of the chaos. "What do you mean, what's going on? We're trying to find out what they did with Reinyn. The old bearded human told us he may have been sent to Hell or just misplaced or something. We're helping his mother, Chichi, get to the bottom of things."

"Really? All of you came down here to find me?"

Igue spun around, his mouth hanging open. Reinyn had a knack for sneaking up on him in life and now in death. Tears pricked at his eyes but Igue blinked them back. He knew better than to cry, even if you were really really happy. "You're not in Hell."

Reinyn raised his hand to his mouth in a universal shushing motion. "No, I'm not quite dead yet. Let's watch this for a minute, Igue, without them watching us." When he set out to explore the afterlife, Reinyn hadn't known what to expect. What he found were a lot of clouds and not much else. After some aimless wandering, he'd settled down and searched for fighting auras, some sign of excitement. That search had brought him to his boys and what looked to be a few humans, including his parents.

At the center of the mess, two perfect specters from his childhood, his parents, searched for their son, their Gohan. Reinyn stared at the two of them raptly, unblinking. He'd dealt with the other Chichi with the knowledge that she wasn't really his mother, but this woman was the real thing and his father, not the other Gohan's father, was standing so close to her. Reinyn had a hard time watching them and not losing his head, not running away. He couldn't face them after everything that had passed, everything he had done, and they should just stop looking for him. He couldn't let them see him. He was just a killer, just a Saijen, not the white-knight they would have raised. How could he expect them to understand? The son they loved didn't exist. Yet he didn't run away. He just stared, terror and yearning battling for dominance in his heart.

Then Reinyn saw something he never in a million years would have expected. A baby that he recognized, Goten, was cuddled into one of the other human's arms. He remembered meeting Gohan's little brother. He remembered the thought that had run through his head: that he didn't have a little brother that his parents had died a long time ago.

But they didn't die.

They just didn't come.

They hadn't loved him enough to come for him.

It had broken his heart as a child when he had finally accepted his parents' death, but this realization was worse. The perfectly idealized specters of his parents were dying in front of him, and Reinyn felt anger blooming in his chest, pounding in his head, radiating off his skin. He wanted to scream at the hypocrites and tell them to stop pretending. If they had really loved their son, and wanted their son they'd have come for him in life instead of waiting for death to search so diligently.

Reinyn stood, no longer so concerned about being seen, no longer so afraid of what his parents might see in him. "Mine to me." Reinyn spoke in perfectly clipped Saijen, summoning his real family with a phrase they all understood.

Chichi heard the command in the back of the room. She even understood it as the afterlife seemed to find a shortcut around language barriers, but she didn't realize who had spoken. The little boys she'd been leading abandoned the tasks she'd set for them and headed for that voice. "Hey," Chichi chastened. But the boys paid her no heed. "What happened?"

"Listen," Goku whispered. "Do you hear him?" Goku hadn't seen Gohan since he was a toddler, but he felt in his gut, that the voice he'd just heard was his son. Had Gohan found them?

Reinyn waited for the kids to assemble before he started speaking. The faces staring back at him were the reason for his life, the reason he'd survived, and they were headed for their afterlives. "Thank you for coming here and for helping me, but I'm okay now, and you guys have other families that are waiting for you. Before you go, look around at your brothers and remember them. They're your family too, closer than the blood in your veins. They are tied to you by the blood on their knuckles and under their fingernails. Thank you for being part of my family." Reinyn paused for a long moment and let a single tear fall. "Now get out of here."

The boys didn't shuffle away or show any sign that they were ready to leave. They were staring up at him, waiting, but Reinyn didn't know what for at first. Then it hit him. They were waiting for him to go to his family, his mother and father were right there, and those boys knew it.

As inevitable as his eventual death, a reunion with his parents seemed something of a certainty now. Maybe a reunion would be good for him? He already knew that his parents didn't come for him. Why should he care what they pretended to feel now? Reinyn moved forward his pride and his anger allowing him to hold his head high. The boys parted for him, more smiling and happy children than he'd seen in nearly a decade in Diasheru. They thought he was moving toward a happy reunion, a happy ending. Well, he could let them have that illusion. As he moved forward, Reinyn could feel his children slipping away to their mothers, as though he had finally given them permission to leave by going to his own family.

"Is that him?" Chichi hissed. She could just see the boy who had spoken so eloquently though the crowd of the other children. He had sounded like an adult, like a leader. Could that really be her baby? "God, it is him isn't it?"

"I think so, Chichi," Goku said. Like someone had ordered a scatter drill, the children had disassembled, heading out of the command center and back to their mothers. By the time their leader, Reinyn, had reached his parents, the audience had shrunk until only the humans and the bureaucrats remained. Let this be okay, Goku prayed. He couldn't read any emotion in the passive face of the boy in front of him. He wasn't wearing a green jumpsuit like the other boys had been. He didn't even have a shirt and his bare chest revealed ugly puckered scars. Goku couldn't stop thinking about the printout of his son's sins, the lives he'd taken. The battles that took those lives, carved those scars. The question was, how deep did those scars run? "Gohan."

Chichi sprang forward unable to contain herself. She threw her arms around her lost son and sobbed into his hair, but her Gohan did not return her hug or shift under her embrace. Stiff as stone, he seemed to be enduring her touch rather than enjoying or even accepting it. "Baby, it's Mom. Do you remember me?" Chichi asked hesitantly. "Baby."

Reinyn ducked down out of his mother's embrace and stepped back. "I am not a baby, and I would prefer it if you called me Reinyn. It is the name I choose to use now." They all looked so unsure and hopeful. Reinyn just wanted to laugh, to hurt them the way they hurt him. He'd been wrong to blame Turnitz for everything. These were responsible parties too. He had been so wrong to deify them and love them. "And yes, I know exactly who you are, at least you two, Mom and Dad. It's been a while. Excuse me if I'm not up for hugs and kisses."

Chichi felt like her heart was breaking with every cold word out of her son's mouth. The look in his eyes, it was hateful and distant. How could he act like that, like he didn't even want her to touch him? "Baby..."

"I'm not you baby," Reinyn snapped.

Goku felt his own temper rise when Reinyn snapped at Chichi. He could see the pain his son was inflicting written on her face, etched in the frown lines around her mouth and dropping from the tears in her eyes. "Don't speak to your mother that way. She loves you, we both love you..."

"Funny, I'm sort angry with her, and I HATE you!" Reinyn's tone crescendoed until he was shouting at the top of his lungs. "I would rather spend my afterlife in Hell following every sadistic order Commander Turnitz can imagine in her sick mind than spend it with you, hypocrites." At least Saijens didn't pretend to care. They didn't fake affection or toy with your emotions. They didn't tell you they loved you and cared for you and then abandon you in Hell.

The baby had begun to cry in the Ox King's arms, and nothing he tried seemed to be able to quiet him. Reinyn shut his eyes, and listened to his brother cry into the otherwise silent room. Had he shocked the hypocrites then, struck them dumb? "My little brother, Goten, do you lie to him too? Do you tell him how much you love him? I just wonder. DO YOU LIE TO HIM TOO?"

**

* * *

Author's Note:**

Okay, there was a question:

Why did Gohan go super-Saijen so young? Answer: Gohan wasn't any older than his brother Goten or Trunks was when they achieved Super-Saijen status. They just trained more intensely from a very young age, and they had each other to interact with. In my mind, the experience, both emotional and physical, of training in Diasheru would have been sufficient to push Gohan to that level relatively quickly. But I'm open to any other comments on the subject.

On a different note there should be at least three more chapters coming out before this fic goes back on indefinite hiatus. Chapter 26 is still just a thought in my head, but if I get it hammered out this month I'll post it before the hiatus when I move on to a different project for a month or two.

Questions, comments, and criticisms are quite welcome as always.

Until next week, Peace and Love.


	24. Raw

Chapter 23 Raw

Rolling green hills carpeted in the softest green grass, stretched as far as the eye could see. Chichi dropped to her knees and dug her fingers down into the fine fibers of grass, more like angora wool than plant leaves. Her youngest, Goten, was rolling in the magic afterlife grass, gurgling and cooing his pleasure. Chichi was surprised at the smile which spread over her face. She hadn't thought a smile would have been possible so soon since the brief reunion her family had shared with her eldest son. Just thinking about Gohan and the things he'd said made her head pound and her heart ache.

Chichi had never had anything go so completely wrong in her life or death as the reunion with her long lost son. Gohan didn't even want to be called Gohan. He didn't want love or help or anything from her. He hated his family, or at least his parents. And the afterlife hadn't even let her try to talk to him. They broke up her revolution and sent them on their way. Granted she hadn't fought much at the time. She'd been in shock, pure and simple.

Chichi fought now. She fought to keep her smile steady as Goten grinned at her. Her Gohan hadn't been as exuberant a baby as his little brother. Her first son would stare at the world, with wide-eyed wonder like he was already studying it. He was her master scholar, her genius.

And he hated her.

Just over the hill, two fathers, Yamcha and Goku, stood together watching over Chichi and Goten. Tension rolled off Goku in waves, like a noxious cloud, swallowing any hope at contentment or joy the scene should have been able to inspire in him.

"Well, I guess you guys found what you were looking for. You found your son," Yamcha said tentatively. "I know it wasn't how you'd envisioned it, but you found him."

"That wasn't my son," Goku whispered. The words felt thick and strangled in his throat but he choked them out, like poisonous seeds. "That was Reinyn. The Saijens killed my son, poisoned him, ruined him. I wanted to just shake him today. I wanted to make him stop hurting her, his mother for God's sake. He can hate me, attack me, but not her, never her." Hadn't the Saijens left his son any soul at all? Reinyn had answered his parents love like only a Saijen could, with hate. Goku understood the irrational hatred that drove those women, the Saijen's concubines, to riot over any Saijen intrusion into their afterlife. He understood what Saijens did to their children, and he hated them too.

Yamcha let Goku vent his frustration and anger. Like draining an infected wound, the poison had to come out before there could be healing. It was difficult to watch his friend suffer, to taste the bitterness in his words. Goku had never been the type to surrender, or lose hope even when things became undeniably dark and foreboding. He believed in justice and happy endings. The universe had let Goku down today, and his innocent faith seemed to be dying, killed by his own son. "I know I'm new at the whole father thing, and maybe I'm full of it, but I don't think your son hates you. Hell, he's a teenager, just old enough to convince himself he hates you for short periods. He's definitely angry, and probably scared, but that's nothing a little time and therapy couldn't fix. I'm sure there's a dead therapists we could look up when Gohan makes the afterlife." Yamcha could sense Goku disengaging from his argument for hope, before he even got to the part about dead therapists. "You know, I thought I hated my parents for whole hours at a time when I was his age."

"Stop it. There's no point in planning to help my son. He's gone. Gohan won't be coming to the afterlife with us." As though ignoring its contents made it less real, Goku and Chichi had guarded the simple facts the afterlife had on their son, about his life, about the killings, but Goku couldn't see any reason to hold onto that secret anymore. The printout with his true name, Reinyn, hadn't lied about the killings, about anything. "Did you know that Reinyn has killed millions? Millions, some of them innocents, some of them were probably children, Yamcha. And they don't let mass murders into the afterlife. They send them to Hell. Hell. It's time I got used to the idea that that's where my son belongs now." Goku turned away from Chichi and his baby, Goten, unable to look at the happy moment while his heart was breaking.

"I promised Chichi that I would bring her son home, and I lied. I lied to her, Yamcha. And I don't know how to make this better anymore."

* * *

The new waiting room the afterlife had provided Reinyn with was grayer and heavier. The clouds here hung low drenching the air with stale humidity, which sprinkled a fine mist onto the ugly gilt furniture. Not that Reinyn cared about the creature comforts. What did it matter? Nothing mattered anymore. There was nothing to look forward to, no goals to reach, no one to protect...no one to love.

Reinyn hugged the thick silence of this place close like a comforting blanket. He hadn't spoken since the outburst with his family, not when the Warriors of the Dead came and broke up their impromptu reunion, not when Roland, his caseworker, scolded him for wandering away, and not when that other Goku who wasn't his father tried to be paternal and friendly and helpful.

Almost against his will, Reinyn's eyes kept straying toward the other Goku in his corner across the room. Why had the afterlife left a duplicate of his father to guard him? It was masochistic, cruel. They couldn't find a stranger with a stranger's face to play nursemaid? No, they had to taunt him with the image of dear old hypocrite dad.

A growl intruded on the silence. Long and low, Reinyn's stomach gave audible protest to the emptiness that had plagued it for the last two days. But food didn't intrude on his thoughts. He was too thirsty for that. For the last hour or so he'd envisioned himself licking the fine mist off the furniture. He could almost taste the metal tang it would leave in his mouth. He'd done less dignified things for food and water in other situations. Nothing was holding him back except that other Goku in the corner. Reinyn had never considered himself overly proud for a Saijen, but he wasn't licking furniture in front of the hypocrite, even if it technically wasn't his father.

Maybe the worm, Roland, had decided to tempt fate back for some lifeline severing by starving his inconvenient charge to death? Didn't dehydration and starvation count as killing in their book? Roland said that they didn't kill people in the afterlife, damn it. Reinyn watched a droplet run and drip tantalizingly off the edge of the table nearest him. He almost gave in and wetted his sandpaper tongue with the condensation, but he just couldn't debase himself like that, not in front of Goku.

Though Reinyn ignored him and his efforts to talk and to help, Goku couldn't ignore the replica of his son across the room. Maybe he was too much of an optimist, and maybe he was a busybody when it came to people who looked like his son, but Goku was certain that he could help, somehow. He hadn't made any progress figuring out how exactly he was going to do that, when the grumbling of Reinyn's stomach started roiling loudly. Goku sprang into action, finally confronted with a problem he could understand and deal with. Living boys needed food and water, and none had been offered over the hours he'd guarded the kid. "You're hungry," Goku said. "Don't bother denying it. I heard your stomach across the room. If you promise not to go anywhere I'll go see about getting you some food and water. Okay?"

"I don't want your help," Reinyn said. "I'd rather starve, thanks."

Goku frowned and jerked back reflexively. Gohan had never sounded like that, bitter and hostile. He's not really your Gohan, Goku had to remind himself before he could phrase a response. "You say that now but I bet starvation is really unpleasant. Come on, let me help."

Reinyn ran a finger along the damp edge of the table that he'd been staring at hungrily, and he wanted to cave, to ask for help. Why did it have to be Goku? Reinyn sighed and glowered at the smiling buffoon awaiting his concession. If he wasn't already three quarters of the way to sucking a damp table for moisture, he might have postured longer hoping for a respite from other avenues. As things stood, Reinyn set aside his anger and pride for a moment. "Fine, I won't go anywhere if you'll get some water and food."

Goku grinned as though they'd made some monumentous connection and headed for the door. "I won't be long."

"Sure you won't," Reinyn muttered to himself. With an exhausted sigh, he slid down the wall. Finally, he was alone for a few precious moments, a moment to rest, a moment to sleep...a moment to regret.

* * *

Beneath the shady canopy of an old growth of cedar trees with birds chirping and squirrels climbing, Krillin could almost forget that he was dead and none of it was real. Of course he had spent his afterlife to this point hanging around waiting for a kid that wasn't his. There hadn't been time for him to deal with his own death, but Krillin was through submerging himself in other people's problems and playing ancillary friend. He was owed some alone time, some time to contemplate his life and death.

At first Krillin thought he was imagining things, but the hair on the back of his neck didn't usually just stand up and dance for no reason. Someone was nearby, hiding and watching. Everyone seemed to have missed the memo about resting in PEACE. If it wasn't a riot, or a revolution Chichi-style, it was a mysterious stalker. "Whoever you are," Krillin called. "I am attempting to have an afterlife here. Come out, or go away, your choice."

Tensing for a confrontation with an unknown adversary, Krillin clenched his fists, and glared through the thick trees in this region of the afterlife. When his stalker finally stepped into view, he wasn't prepared for the creature he faced. She stood more than eight feet tall, with orangey skin like she'd smeared herself with some cheap sunless tanner. Her hair hung in thick red plaits which draped down past curvaceous hips. Royal purple robes hung in symmetrical folds, a stark contrast against her skin. Krillin visibly relaxed into a more sarcastic annoyed stance. Women had made him feel short and inadequate his whole life, and this gargantuan alien was bringing out the insecure short-man in him. "I didn't end up in Hell. You'd think heaven might throw some short women at me, but no. I get stalked by the fifty foot woman." Krillin muttered more to himself than to the alien.

"Apologies, small human. I intended no disrespect," she said. Dropping to her knees, the alien came significantly closer to Krillin's eye level. "Is this preferable?"

Sure she just called him small human, but Krillin couldn't help noticing the physical attributes of his giant stalker. Her eyes were a rich brown that complimented her unusual skin tone. Krillin felt heat rising in his cheeks. She was a pretty alien in a tall-orange-earnest kind of way. Maybe he should stop being so sarcastic and try being polite. "I'm Krillin. Nice to meet you."

"My name is Omea, human-Krillin, and the honor of our meeting rests entirely with me."

With a flourish, Omea twisted her hands together in what Krillin suspected was a polite greeting of some sort. With a grimace of consternation, he tried to emulate the gesture, but just ended up flapping his fingers ineffectually like some demented mime. "Ah, you know what I mean?"

"Of course, small human, I understand completely," Omea replied slowly. "Can you help me? I hope to find your Fluorer, ah, no priest, or leader? Do you know of whom I speak?"

Krillin couldn't contain a grin. A sexy orange alien just asked him to take her to his leader if he understood correctly. "Lady, we're not that organized in this corner of the afterlife. Yeah, there are humans around here, but we've always been a bit of a divisive species. You know what I mean?"

"Solitary creatures?" Omea muttered. "That will make matters more complex. I need to find a particular human. How should I go about that?"

"Not solitary, just disorganized, and good luck finding a particular human." Krillin couldn't contain a bitter chuckle when he thought about the weeks they'd spent waiting and searching for Gohan. "The afterlife gets a 0 out of 10 for organization. I'd offer to help, but..."..._I'm having a moment of solitude here, and I don't care if you're an incredibly tall beautiful alien._ Krillin shook his head internally. He'd wasted so much of his life, alone, not really living. He could spend his afterlife the same way, an eternity alone. What was he thinking? He could always take a few minutes to contemplate his death in solitude later. Krillin's smile lost the bitter twist and he tried his hand at a flirtatious grin. "What the heck. I'll help you find your human. Does he or she have a name?"

"You're help would be greatly appreciated. You are kind human-Krillin." Omea flourished her hands together again and hesitantly copied Krillin's smile. "The human I seek goes by the name of Reinyn, though it isn't his true name."

**

* * *

Author's Note:**

Okay, back again and this chapter is a little bit of a risk. For one thing, it breaks away from a very emotional moment from the last chapter abruptly, second, Goku gets in touch with his darker emotions here, and that's almost an out of character thing to do to with Goku. That said, I think he has more than enough reason to be a little negative and a little desolate.And for my final cardinal sin, I introduced another of approximately a million original characters (OC). The OC's are always important but peripheral. I almost feel likeit's asking a lot of a reader to take all these people in, particularly considering that some only appear for a chapter or two never to be seen again. It's a fanfic mentality, worrying about your OC's taking away from the story, but I worry about it an inordinate amount.

Does this chapter work? I wouldn't have posted it if I didn't think so, but I'd be glad to take any comments or criticisms.

As for the discussion of super Saijen timing, it was both educational and thought provoking. Interestingly enough, I came to the conclusion in my warped little brain, that the timing for this fic still works. shrug


	25. Solace

**Chapter 24 - Solace**

The assortment of goodies Goku had piled together for Reinyn filled his arms well past his head so that he could scarcely see his next step. Yet somehow he managed to make the trek from Warrior of the Dead cafeteria to the waiting area his young charge was assigned to. With a precariously balanced kick, Goku knocked the door open, and strode forward. "I'm back." Not surprisingly, Reinyn didn't bother to verbalize a greeting. "We have meat and fruit and water. I'm not sure what kind of meat and fruit. They're from some corner of the galaxy that I'm not familiar with, but they're good. I've tried them all at some point or another." Goku attempted to drop his load onto one of the ornate tables losing only a couple of oblong green melons, which rolled lackadaisically across the floor.

"Reinyn?" Goku said. He wasn't just being ignored though, Reinyn was gone. Roland, the caseworker who had left him to contain Reinyn, had taken over the silent glaring in the room. Goku knew he was in trouble for abandoning his post, but what was he supposed to do? "I apologize for losing him, but he promised me he'd stay put. The kid was starving."

Roland smirked condescendingly and shook his head at Goku. "Actually, Reinyn stayed put. Decisions have been made, and his situation is resolved. You can go back to whatever it is you do normally. I won't be filing a report about your delinquency since there was no harm done, and I prefer to avoid the paperwork. Try to be more diligent in the future." Roland paused on his way out the door, looking down his nose at the food Goku had brought. "Clean that up before you go, please."

Goku stared at the pile of food, pointless impotent good intention. "What do you mean by resolved? Is he back with his family?"

"That's none of your concern, is it?" Roland said.

* * *

"This place could get really boring. At least you finally made it."

Goku didn't turn to face the owner of the voice intruding on his solitude. Since shaking Yamcha and his wife, he'd been mourning his son, fighting bitterness and anger. The lures of the afterlife, the soft grass and the gently lit blue skies didn't tempt him or assuage his spirit. "Piccolo, I'm not in the mood." His oftentimes adversary, Piccolo, was in the afterlife with him, safe in heaven. Unfortunately, his son wouldn't be able to enjoy the same privilege. How damn ironic. Goku felt a painful laugh building in his throat and he could barely hold it in. "Just. Go. Away."

Ignoring Goku's strangled request for privacy, Piccolo took a seat near him and relaxed, seemingly oblivious to the raw grief he was intruding on. "Took you a long time to find that kid of yours. I would have thought you wouldn't want to let him out of your sight for at least a few years. So where is he?"

"Look, I'm only going to say this to you once, so listen close." His jaw muscles tensed, and his hands balled into fists, Goku leveled Piccolo with his most intimidating stare. "Never speak of my son to me again. Don't torment my wife about him and don't ever try to taunt me. If you do...I..."

"You'll what?" Piccolo returned Goku's stare without flinching. "So, I take it you didn't find your kid? You decided to hide over here in the corner and cry about it? I thought you were stronger than that. How disappointing."

Goku didn't bother to try warning Piccolo again. What good would it do? They'd been dancing this number for nearly ten years now. Piccolo's taunts and sarcasm and disdain would rain day after day, and Goku just let it roll off him until Piccolo found the line and crossed it. Today, Goku was ready to fight. There wasn't a line to cross or a bit of good will to exhaust. "I told you to leave it alone."

Piccolo arched an eyebrow, actually a little shocked at how quickly Goku was taking his bait. Finally, the potential for some excitement had found its way into his afterlife. "You got a problem with me talking about you iddle baby boy? Why don't you shut me up?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Goku said. "You want to spit your venom and brawl because you're bored..."…_and you were heaven material_. Goku closed his eyes and let the taunt tension go. It just wasn't worth it anymore. Piccolo could spout venom for the rest of eternity. There wouldn't be a fight between them today or ever again. "For your information, we found my son, but it's still up in the air whether he's joining us or not. I won't be helping you get your jollies by kicking your ass. The fighting ends here. This is heaven, a place of peace, and you aren't welcome in my afterlife."

After all the hassles and inefficiency he'd experienced at the hands of the afterlife, Goku didn't expect instant wish gratification, but for the first time since his death, he was pleasantly surprised. With a low pitched thump and a flash of blue light, Piccolo ceased to occupy the patch of grass on his hill. Goku blinked his eyes in disbelief. Just because he didn't want to deal with him, Piccolo couldn't touch him anymore?

Looking up at the perfect soft blue sky, Goku let himself feel warm and safe and pleased. Sometimes things worked out after all. Shrugging off a particularly cold winter, tendrils of hope sprang anew in Goku's heart. Things could still work out. How could an afterlife that let Piccolo in, exclude his son? It just wasn't possible, was it?

* * *

"Who is she? What does she want? You said she's looking for Reinyn, but why?" Chichi hissed surreptitiously to Krillin. Never taking her eyes off the super-tall alien, Omea, she hiked Goten higher on her hip. Maternal instincts humming, Chichi tried to gauge any threat their new guest might pose. What was Krillin thinking, bringing tall strangers around who might want to kill them all again?

"Look, she's not dangerous," Krillin groused. "If she had a fighting aura or an attitude I wouldn't have helped her."

"Ah, you are afraid, uncomfortable," Omea said. She dropped to her knees, trying to come to Chichi's eye level as she had with Krillin. "I mean you no harm, sincerely. Is your son, Reinyn, present? I would so like to speak with him before making myself at home in this spirit world."

It was really a reasonable request, asked of a reasonable person, but finding her son wasn't a simple task in life or death. Chichi felt a hitch in her throat as she responded. "You don't seem overly dangerous or anything but my son isn't here yet. I'm looking for him myself."

With a sigh, Omea rocked back to rest on her ankles. "Well, I suppose we could look together. At least this place is helpful, yes?"

Krillin laughed and looked to Chichi disbelievingly. The afterlife was lumbering, useless, anything but helpful. "I think she's serious."

"Interface please," Omea said. A tuft of perfect afterlife grass shifted into fluffy clouds. Omea brushed at the vapors revealing a small thirteen inch screen. "Hmm, it didn't work when I tried the search engine for an individual, but the species/racial/ethnic engine was very helpful. I found humans anyway."

"How did you do that?" Chichi asked. She let Goten down and crowded next to Omea to get a better look at the screen, her cautious instincts forgotten. "Who taught you how to use this?"

"There's an afterlife orientation every Friday. I learned there." With a determined glint in her eye, Omea skipped through the FAQ's and the articles meant to help the recently deceased get on with their deaths. "You see, there's a search feature, and you move through their filters. I want to find a person not a place or a thing, so I touch here." The screen shifted at Omea's touch, filling with new filter options. "Since we are all dead, I can go with deceased soul."

"No," Chichi said. She stopped Omea's hand on the way to the screen. "He was alive last I heard. There was a mistake, a snafu. Maybe that's why your search failed."

"I can't believe you can just GOOGLE people in the afterlife," Krillin said. He wasn't sure whether to be disturbed or impressed. When the screen filled with a picture of Reinyn, frowning and grim, Krillin settled on impressed.

Reinyn: Human Saijen Hybrid  
Status: Living  
Location: Earth

"He is alive," Omea purred. "How lovely. I hadn't even thought that was possible. I wonder where Earth is? Is it part of the afterlife?"

Chichi couldn't speak, shocked as she was by the information on the screen. Had they sent her son to Earth, to the living Earth or just some part of the afterlife that was Earthlike? Omea reached out a hand, touching the link for current video, and Chichi's heart leapt. It was just her son, her Gohan, crouched insignificantly on a hillside. He seemed so alone there, and Chichi wished she could hug him again. She would hug him until he gave up and accepted her love. She could love him harder than he could hate her.

"It's reality, not a spirit world," Omea said quickly. "See the imperfections, the wilted grass and the light rain. Have they sent him to the other reality then? This is perfection itself."

Perfection? Sending her baby into another reality's living world was anything but perfection. Chichi cringed inside.. Alive but alone, her son was yet again beyond her reach, and damn it, he needed her. It wasn't that she wished her child dead either, but he didn't deserve to be alone anymore. "This isn't acceptable."

"Don't be selfish, human-Chichi," Omea said. "Reinyn will live, and he will bear the light. This brightens my death. I think I can relax and enjoy this ending now."

"Selfish? He is my son, and he doesn't deserve to be alone anymore. Who do you think you are, coming here and telling me I'm selfish?" Chichi almost shouted. "You aren't part of this family, and I don't know how you know my son, but..."

"Silence!" Omea rose to her full height, effervescent playfulness and politeness replaced by a haughty pride. Looking down her nose at Chichi, Omea laughed. "I will not be screeched at. Your son is not alone, just because you aren't there means very little. You were never there, not for the majority of his life. He is a guardian, a sentinel, a noble spirit who understands survival. He does not need his mother. Be thankful he is alive. Life is everything."

Krillin refused to let Omea intimidate with either her height or newly developed attitude. Goku was MIA and Krillin wasn't going to let an orange alien get cheeky with his best friend's wife. "Lady you don't know what you're talking about. You have no right to talk to her like that. Back off."

"I will back away as you ask, but I do not recant my statements. Be happy for your child's life. I have wished him only the best since I have known him." Omea strode away, her long legs carrying her quickly from the irritated humans. She hadn't planned to cause strife among them, but she wasn't good at holding her tongue, and after serving her race for many years as Fluorer she was used to her opinions being honored if not always agreed with. Few would have agreed with the decision she made in the moment of her death, but the boy who took her life, Reinyn, lived on. Somehow Omea felt that fate was honoring her last-second gamble. She could only hope that he would live in the light, and live well.

* * *

The world had never seemed more dark and foreboding, to Reinyn's experienced eyes. He had been abandoned by the powers above, abandoned to a life he shouldn't own and had no idea what to do with.

At least he'd had a chance to sate his thirst and fill his belly. The fish from the creek had been muddy flavored and strong, but Reinyn had hardly noticed while sucking them down raw. Funny thing about finally having a full belly, it didn't help him with his problem of purpose, or lack there of. The drizzling rain had long since soaked his hair and pants, running rivers over his exposed chest. He was cold, but not cold enough to seek shelter. Besides, moving would be silly when Piccolo was so close, and getting closer. Maybe he should have banked back his aura, hidden, but he needed guidance right now, someone to tell him what he was supposed to do with himself. Piccolo was the closest thing to a chain of command he had in this reality.

For Piccolo's part, he hadn't been looking for Reinyn to return, but when it happened, it was impossible to miss. That kind of power, distinctly Reinyn, gold and fierce, had been like a strobe light flashed into a dim room. The only other possible owner of said aura was safely tucked away with his books in his home right where he belonged.

Piccolo found Reinyn, soggier for wear, but otherwise unchanged from the last time he'd seen him. Much like his unexpected exit, this new arrival left Piccolo somewhat conflicted. A dangerous child that didn't really belong here was back to cause trouble and pick super Saijen fights. But at least he wasn't dead. "You're back."

"Yeah, the afterlife kicked me out until such time as I get myself properly killed." Even as he said it, Reinyn knew he didn't want to die particularly. Death offered two completely unappealing options, Hell or Heaven with the folks. Maybe he didn't know what to do with himself and his life, but he wasn't anxious to get back to his afterlife either. "Don't worry I'm not going to ask you to kill me or anything."

"Good, I don't make it a habit, killing my students." The situation with Reinyn suddenly seemed larger and more complicated than before. Before, the kid had been a temporary visitor, a child to be pitied and helped and eventually bid farewell. Now, Piccolo had a sinking suspicion that his plan to train and fortify this kid wasn't going to cut it as a permanent lifestyle. "This is a long term situation, then?"

"As long as my life," Reinyn snapped. From the look Piccolo was leveling him with, however long that was, it was going to be a bloody inconvenience. Well, forget him and his stupid questions. He didn't need directions from a useless, low-powered, pea-green, nobody. Rising from his crouch, Reinyn pushed past Piccolo. "Don't look at me like that. This wasn't my idea or my decision."

"No, I don't suppose it was, but you have to make some decisions now. What are you going to do with yourself?"

_What am I going to do with myself_? Reinyn wanted to shout at Piccolo for reiterating his recurring internal monologue. "How am I supposed to know what I'm supposed to do with myself? This isn't my reality, my world. There's nothing to tie me down, nothing to keep me from wandering this wilderness for the rest of my useless existence, unknown."

"Except that I defeated you, and you belong to me," Piccolo said. "Isn't that how it works in your universe, on your world?"

So he remembered the rules, their arrangement. Reinyn half-expected Piccolo to have conveniently forgotten the tie that bound them together, but he was relieved to hear him reiterate it, to accept it. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Oh no, it's not going to be that easy," Piccolo said. "You still have decisions to make, but I'll help you figure out the questions. Now follow me."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Okay, first off, we're leaving the afterlife behind in a fundamental sense from this point on, and with that…Hallelujah. (The afterlife is a pain to write.)

A gazillion years ago, when I was sitting around plotting this fic, it wasn't Chapter 1-24 that I obsessed over and plotted endlessly. Did I know what I wanted to write would follow a solid 24 chapters of prologue? Did I ever in a million years think it would take this long to get through the beginning? Nope. Will I ever get to write the part I started plotting years ago? Hope so. :)

For now this is goodbye. It will most likely be months before I'm back to this fic. Time remains short and this is a good stopping point. There are quite a few fics in my WIP section that are at least as neglected as this story, and I'm off to spread myself thin elsewhere for a while.

Thanks for all the support, comments, and criticisms. It's been fun so far :)


	26. Pecking Order

**Chapter 25 – Pecking Order**

Half-way down a page of Algebra equations, Gohan realized that the energy picture of the world had changed. He wasn't hyperaware of the energy around him. It was more of a background buzz, boring and unchanging, like white noise...usually. "Reinyn?" Gohan stared out his window and into the wilderness unable to quite believe the energy flowing back at him, a mirror of his own aura.

Knowing his mother wouldn't understand his need to explore the evidence his extra-senses were feeding him, Gohan unlatched his window and took flight without asking permission. Dodging through the trees, he focused on the unique aura which was moving toward him. Would Reinyn still be angry like when he vanished?

Why was he even** alive**?

That ungenerous thought rekindled Gohan's lingering feelings of guilt over Reinyn's untimely end. Well he thought there had been an untimely end?

If Gohan was mostly oblivious to the energy around him, Reinyn was acutely attuned. He knew where Gohan was and when he started flying toward him. He was ready for whatever came be it a calm greeting or a continuation of their almost-confrontation. To be honest, Reinyn hoped it came to blows between them. A good bloody brawl might help him clear his head. Everything was too confusing, but a fight would be simple.

Coming to land, Piccolo waited the few seconds until Gohan overtook them, his mind buzzing with possibilities, with necessities. Reinyn, a child with enough inherent power to destroy the world, was here to stay. He was a child adrift, without connections to the world he was in or reason to listen to any authority in that world. Piccolo didn't kid himself that the meager bit of influence Reinyn suffered him would stand up to a real test. All Reinyn had to do was challenge Piccolo to a rematch and win, but there was a way around that loophole. There was at least one person on the planet Piccolo felt certain could best Reinyn in a fair fight.

"Gohan," Piccolo said. He inclined his head slightly in greeting. "Salutations are in order. Our friend Reinyn has returned, to stay this time."

Snorting at Piccolo's reference to his and Gohan's nonexistent friendship, Reinyn crossed his arms over his chest and stared daggers at his double. "Hi, Gohan. Miss me?"

Basking in the unpleasant glow of Reinyn's sarcastic hello, Gohan was reminded of how frustrating this guy could be. Without losing his resolve to be polite, Gohan smiled and shrugged. "Welcome back. What happened? Is everything okay with your timeline?"

"You know exactly what happened to my timeline. As for why I'm dumped here," Reinyn snapped, "only thing they were very clear on was the fact that I'm not dead, and they couldn't kill me. Can you kill me?"

Gohan flinched at the open hostility lurking inside the smirk Reinyn was sporting. "Was that a request?"

"Not really," Reinyn said. "Heaven, Hell, parents, hypocrites, I'm better off alive for the moment. It wouldn't hurt to stretch my legs though. Piccolo told me on more than one occasion that you were stronger than me, that you would take me apart in less than two minutes if we fought. Care to prove it?"

Gohan was chuckling, a fake nervous laugh, but Piccolo's response almost choked him.

"I think that's a wonderful idea, with a few limitations," Piccolo said. "No going super Saijen. The Earth is delicate, and we will not blast holes in her for you boys to establish a hierarchy."

"You want me to fight him? Why?" Gohan stared at Piccolo, his mentor and friend, completely agog. Reinyn was alive and back. That was a big chunk of information to swallow, but Piccolo wanting to throw his new and former student into the ring made absolutely no sense. "Is he still mad at me for telling him about his universe? I'll apologize if he wants."

"I'm standing right here," Reinyn said. Stretching first one direction then the other, he methodically loosened his muscles. "And I'm not angry at you. Usually, battle doesn't involve anger. Fighting is like breathing, and I've gone days now without a good one."

Piccolo didn't know what had happened in the afterlife, but something had jumpstarted Reinyn's anger, his battle lust. It was just as well that they got this over with. Gohan would win, and they would have a more firm control of Reinyn. "Are we agreed? One on one, no super Saijen."

"Agreed," Reinyn answered without stopping his stretching exercises.

As much as he wanted to have a private talk with Piccolo first, Gohan trusted him enough to accept this challenge, questions unanswered. "I'll fight."

He'd barely uttered his acceptance of the fight and its rules, when Gohan was knocked from his feet. Reinyn apparently took Gohan's words as ready, set, and go all in one. Piccolo had been at the business end of that style Kamikaze tackle before, and it was a Hell of a ride. He stared for several long seconds after the two boys before he took flight to continue monitoring their battle. He'd been certain that Gohan could defeat Reinyn, but there was something to be said for reckless attacks and forgetting the polite niceties like waiting for your enemy to say they were ready. Would it be enough to get the better of Gohan?

Probably not.

* * *

Bulma stared at her computer screen while her fingers flew over the keypad. A logarithmic regression cut forward across the screen repetitively expressing arc after arc. If the data she was compiling was to be trusted the new capsules from R and D were causing unacceptable reductions in tensile strength for Capsule Corp.'s new line of recreational vehicles. Despite her resolve not to blink until she'd found a solution for their tensile failures, Bulma rose and headed for the kitchen.

Trunks was under the breakfast table stalking their gray tabby cat, while his grandmother watched her soap operas on a miniature television. "Mom, don't let him hurt the cat," Bulma said absently. Jerking open the refrigerator, Bulma scanned for something caffeinated and settled on a Fizz-Cola. "I'm going outside to stretch my legs and air out my brain." If her mother's unchanged expression was anything to judge by, she didn't even hear her.

Outside the air was moving briskly, a thunderhead rolling toward them from the west. A nice rain was just the thing to wash away some of the muggy August heat. Bulma sipped her soda and watched the cloud. Normally a wife should worry about her husband being out in a storm, but she refused to worry about Vegeta, though he'd been missing for nearly a month now. He would come home when he found what he was looking for or started missing his gravity chamber. He wouldn't come home for her or his son that was for sure.

It wasn't that Vegeta didn't love them, Bulma was almost certain of his love. He just seemed to find Trunks confusing in the extreme. Bulma suspected Vegeta was trying to deal with his son like a Saijen would, but she wanted Trunks to have a loving, more human father. She wanted her son to know the wild, loving, passionate man she'd accidentally fallen in love with. She just wanted him to let go of his inhibitions a little bit and show the smallest amount of affection. Her attempts to change the cold father-son relationship into something more intimate had only made Vegeta distance himself from her. It made him run away.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and Bulma spun around. Had her confused yearning summoned him home? Did he know how much she needed him to hold her, kiss her, and remind her why they were together? "Vegeta?" His eyes were darkly brooding tonight. They weren't a lover's eyes. Those were fighting eyes. Was he going to fight with her? They could only battle with words, and Vegeta never found that satisfying.

"It's broken." Vegeta tossed a twisted spiral of metal at Bulma's feet. "Fix it."

"You broke your gravity chamber again. How long have you been home anyway? You could have said hi before you started training." Bulma picked up the twisted hunk of metal and frowned darkly. "This will take some work to set right. I'm afraid you'll just have to do without it for a few days. I'm busy."

After those weeks in the wilderness seeking his wish, he failed. No wish, no fight with Kakarrot, and now no gravity chamber in which to vent his overflowing animosity, the situation was unacceptable. He stepped closer to Bulma into her cloud of lavender scent so that the other smells of the afternoon were blotted away. "Fix it, now."

"You can't make me." Bulma spun to stride away for a dramatic exit, but Vegeta gripped her arm and held on. "Let go." As useless as she knew struggling would be, Bulma fought her husband's unbreakable grip. "Do you want to hurt me?"

"Yes, no, I don't know..." Vegeta's frown darkened. Indecision was weakness personified. How could he not know what he wanted? He always knew what he wanted. There were tears pooling in Bulma's eyes, then they were running down her cheeks. His heart lurched disconcertingly and Vegeta knew what he wanted. Pulling her close, he claimed her, his wife, his mate. The hard aggressive kiss burned through his anger converting that volatile emotion into passion.

Petty arguments about gravity chambers forgotten, Vegeta swept Bulma into his arms and carried her to their bedchamber. Now that he knew what he wanted, he wasn't about to wait another moment to have it.

Focused as he was on Bulma, Vegeta didn't notice the fighting auras pulsing and growing in the wilderness. They never even penetrated the periphery of his perception.

* * *

Standing at opposites ends of a patch of sand in the wastelands of the wilderness, Gohan and Reinyn faced each other, panting. Both bloody and bruised, neither seemed to have taken control of the battle. "You almost went Super Siajen there," Gohan said. "You lose control, you lose this fight."

"You'd like the easy out, wouldn't you? You're whole life has been full of them," Reinyn said. He grinned, a gruesome expression. His teeth were stained bloody from his cut lip, but he didn't seem to care, swallowing the blood rather than spitting it on the ground. "Got your breath? I'm ready to get back to it."

"Awfully nice of you to check this time," Gohan said. "I'm ready."

"A sucker tackle only works once per sucker," Reinyn said. Gohan dropped his shoulders and adopted a defensive stance. "You call defense? Suits me."

Reinyn's attacks were unforgiving staccato flurries that took all of Gohan's concentration to defend, but he didn't fight well, not really. A day of hard training with Piccolo hadn't been able to banish the brawler fighting style that he fell into instinctively. Reinyn was used to his enemy being weaker, exhaustible. All Gohan had to do was endure his devastating attacks long enough, and Reinyn would be an easy win.

Finally catching up to his students, Piccolo landed near enough to watch the fight play out. The two boys might have been nearly identical if you stood them side by side, but when fighting they were like night and day. Gohan's technique was fluid, polished, and near perfect. Though he had mastered some of the fundamentals of balance, Reinyn still lacked the refinement that could only be achieved by studying under a master.

Gohan slipped into auto pilot, blocking Reinyn's attacks and their regular rhythm. Was this all his double had? The thought had barely flashed through his head when Reinyn slipped through his defenses, swept his feet out from under him and kicked him into the nearest tree. "You looked bored," Reinyn said. "We can't have that."

Gohan spat a mouthful of blood on the ground and flew at Reinyn, dropping his defensive style. His double could play at blocking freight-train punches for a little while. "Not really bored. You're just slower than I'm used to fighting."

Piccolo didn't see the blow that dropped Reinyn, but Gohan managed to get him horizontal, and Reinyn finally lost his cool. His energy signature switched to Super Saijen and he blasted an energy wave at Gohan.

When the smoke settled, two super Saijens stood staring at one another. Gohan had to transform in the face of Reinyn's attack, but Reinyn had definitely transformed first. He had lost again, and this time it had been a fair consistent fight.

"I lost. So what," Reinyn said. "It isn't like this is Vegeta. It doesn't mean anything."

"It means that he could do it again if he needed to," Piccolo said. "It means you have to listen because we can make you."

"So it is like Vegeta after all. Fine, what now?" Reinyn asked. "I thought you were going to make me decide what to do with myself. Why was it so important to cement your chain of command if you aren't going to use it?"

"You really have to ask?" Piccolo said.

Reinyn shook his head and slouched his shoulders sullenly. They both knew that Piccolo's defeat of him had been little more than a fluke, and that with his head screwed on anywhere close to right it would never happen again. The deference he afforded Piccolo based on that fight was almost like a gift, Reinyn allowing him to lead. Gohan was a different matter. Reinyn hadn't ever fought anyone like him, and he wasn't used to losing. Well, if Gohan could fight like that, then so could he. They were the same person. It might take a little time and training, but he could do it. Hell, all he had was time. Reinyn smiled to himself, a goal forming in his head. The next time Piccolo asked him what he wanted to do with himself, he might actually have an answer.

"Does your mother know that Reinyn is back?" Piccolo asked.

"No, I didn't tell her that I was leaving," Gohan said. "She's probably noticed that I'm gone by now though." He started brushing at his study clothes, but they were hopelessly stained and torn. "Mom's going to kill me." Gohan smiled toward Reinyn. "Well maybe she won't in front of company."

Piccolo didn't say the thought that ran through his head, but Reinyn wasn't company. He wasn't a visitor in their world anymore. They needed to find a way to make him family.

* * *

Chichi took one look and the bloody bruised boys on her front porch and her heart jumped into her throat. Reinyn was back, and he and Gohan had had a fight. They were obviously both still moving under their own power so she didn't panic, quite. "Have you been fighting? What did I tell you about fighting, Gohan, and with Reinyn too? I'm very disappointed. And you left without saying a word! Do you know how worried I was?"

Gohan looked sideways at Piccolo since he instigated the fight, but he took his mothers remonstrations without protest. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"All right then," Chichi said. She laid a gentle hand on Reinyn's shoulder and he took a calculated step back. This wasn't his mother, the woman he was angry with, but she was close enough that he wasn't sure he wanted anything from her. Chichi ignored, Reinyn's attempt to pull away and took a firmer grip on his arm. "We're going to the first aid station to get you patched up, and you're next Gohan."

Gauging Reinyn's mutinous expression, Piccolo nodded severely. "Go with her Reinyn. Let her treat your wounds."

Once he and Piccolo were alone, Gohan sighed and plopped down on the back steps. "Would you mind explaining what just happened out there? Why did you make us fight? What did it prove?"

"You needed to fight him for control," Piccolo said. "He defers to me because I defeated him in combat, but he didn't fight up to his potential in that skirmish. If I really pushed him, he would have asserted himself physically and done what he wanted. You on the other hand could and did outclass him on every level. Reinyn now knows the hierarchy on this world at least to the extent that he isn't at the top of it. He will defer to you, and if he wants to defy you he has to defeat you in combat first."

"Whatever happened to peaceful debate? Who came up with those rules? That sounds like something Vegeta would spout. Wait. Don't tell me he was training with Vegeta in his timeline because he doesn't fight like he's ever trained with anyone." Gohan frowned and crossed his arms over his knees. As much as he wanted to be polite and make up for the way he'd acted toward Reinyn before, he couldn't help feeling irked that his doppelganger was inside getting first aid from his mother before she even treated her own son. "He's just so strange. You obviously know more about him than he's told the rest of us. What's wrong with him? What happened?"

"That isn't my story to tell," Piccolo said. For Reinyn to successfully integrate into their world, Gohan was going to have to make a place for him in his life, in his family. Piccolo had never seen his student so quick to dislike anyone. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to deal with the situation. Gohan had always had an uncanny ability to empathize with people and creatures. It was one of his greatest strengths and weaknesses rolled into one. Why was Reinyn exempt from Gohan's ability to empathize? Maybe it was because they were supposed to be the same person? The truth about Reinyn might be the only thing that could make him understand, but Piccolo couldn't just tell the story Reinyn had sobbed out one vulnerable night. He couldn't betray his confidence. But maybe he could tell Gohan something, and hope that it was enough to jumpstart his normally open heart. "Suffice it to say, that he has been on his own for a long time."

"Alone?" Gohan remembered the empty gray room Reinyn had carried them to when they'd been trapped between timelines. He remembered the hill of corpses and the bloody river. Reinyn might not be willing to fill in the blanks, but Gohan was beginning to have an idea about his double's life. And the picture he painted wasn't a pretty one. "Is he dangerous?"

"There is inherent danger in anyone wields power. His rules may be archaic and brutal, but he follows them. As long as you can best him in battle, he won't ever be any more dangerous than you let him be," Piccolo said.

"We're counting on me to control me? It doesn't make sense when you say it." Gohan stared out at the empty hill of green clover that Reinyn's mind had filled with corpses, his frown never wavering. Cocky, angry, brutal, Reinyn wasn't a very nice person, and Gohan couldn't understand how they could be the same on any level. Well, maybe they weren't? "I'm not him, Piccolo. We aren't the same person at all. The similarities are just physical. I have to stop thinking of him as me, and start thinking of him as Reinyn. Trying to think of him as me, as another Gohan...I'm never going to understand him that way."

Piccolo nodded without completely agreeing. Gohan needed to draw a line in his mind and say I'm me and he isn't, but Piccolo thought the two boys were more the same than either would ever admit.

* * *

"Looks like you boys took this fight seriously." Chichi examined Reinyn's bruised and lacerated torso critically. Goku had come home banged up much worse on a regular basis, not to even mention the state Gohan had been in after defeating Cell. Chichi brandished an alcohol swab, feeling well within her medical capabilities. "This is going to burn."

Reinyn didn't look Chichi in the eyes or acknowledge her warning. When she daubed the liquid fire into his open wounds he didn't even suck in a breath. Chichi examined each wound, scrubbing until convinced that it was close to sterile.

"You're a tough one then, are you?" she said. "Well Goku never was very tough when it came to alcohol. You could hear him screaming all over this mountain when he needed a trip to the first aide station."

Reinyn wanted to hate her, but listening to Chichi talk while she touched him so gently, he found himself looking at her instead. She wasn't his mother. She wasn't the one who abandoned him, but they were so much the same. "You don't have to take care of me. I don't need a mother."

"I know I'm not your mother Reinyn, and I know I don't have to take care of you, but I want to. So why don't you let me," Chichi said. "I'll go ahead and pull out the extra bunk and put it in Gohan's room. You'll be staying, really staying this time. My boys don't head out into the wilderness without telling me, Gohan's behavior not withstanding."

"I'm not one of your boys," Reinyn said. Why was she smiling at him like that, like she understood him? She didn't understand him, she didn't know him, and he wasn't about to stand around and let her treat him like a stray puppy. "I don't need a mother."

"You said that already," Chichi said. "I wouldn't ever to try to replace your mother."

"What is it you're doing then, caring for my wounds and calling me one of your boys?" Reinyn couldn't stand her pity, her stupid weak desire to save him. "Would you like to know what the last thing I said to my mother was? I told her I hated her and that she was a liar if she said she loved me." Chichi wasn't stunned into silence by his aggressive confrontational attitude. She smiled at him. How could she smile at him when he hated his own mother?

"There isn't anything you could say to make your mother stop loving you. I'm not her, but I know," Chichi said. _And I don't believe that you hate her, whatever happened between you. _"Now go fetch Gohan so I can clean him up too."

* * *

"We have to get you a lesson plan together first thing." Chichi stacked their dirty dishes precariously high and headed for the kitchen. "I'll put together some placement tests. We can get started in the morning."

Reinyn stared after her, a completely disbelieving look on his face. "Who's going to tell her that I'm not staying?"

"Who says you aren't?" Gohan said. "I believe that I'm your cruise director. What do you have to do that's so important that you can't stay and take my mom's placement tests?"

"I have to train, for my new goal," Reinyn said matter-of-factly. "Otherwise I'll never be able to beat you. And I intend to beat you."

Piccolo sat back, contemplating Gohan and Reinyn. They were bickering bitterly, almost like brothers already.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I was bribed into releasing this chapter. Yes, I can be bought with fanart...it's true. Will post again when the next chapter is ready. No idea when that will be, sorry!


	27. Equilibrium

**Part V - Family**

_Gohan didn't really want another brother, at least not a semi-psychotic pseudo-twin. But he let me in and made me stay. You might think it was Chichi and what she wanted, but it was really between Gohan and me. If he had told me to go, Chichi's desires never would have entered in._

_But he didn't tell me to go._

_More importantly...he wouldn't let me leave._

**Chapter 26 - Equilibrium**

If Reinyn expected Gohan to passively exercise the influence his victory-by-combat afforded him, he was sorely mistaken. Reinyn wanted to train, but Gohan made him study first. Reinyn wanted to live in the wilderness with Piccolo, but Gohan made him stay close where he could keep an eye on him. With a disgruntled sigh, Reinyn tried not to fidget overmuch in his seat while pretending to read the lines of numbers in the workbook his "master" gave him.

It was ridiculous of them to expect him to study. He hadn't studied in years. There was no hope of him ever catching up to where he needed to be, why bother trying? Reinyn craned his neck to see the complex math Gohan was working, and he scowled at the gibberish of it. Wasting his time studying meant he would never be able to best his double in combat and would functionally be trapped forever beneath him in this world's hierarchy.

"Would you stop fidgeting and just work the problems. They aren't hard," Gohan said without looking up from his own work. "If you don't finish the workbook assignment, you can't go train until you do. You know the rules."

"I don't like your rules," Reinyn said. "I don't need math or literature or any of it. My mind doesn't work like that."

Gohan smacked his pencil down on the table and turned. "I know how your mind works. The mind is a muscle that you let get flabby. It's going to hurt to get it into shape, but it's required to function in polite society."

"Who said I wanted to live in polite society? I want to go to the wilderness with Piccolo," Reinyn shouted. "Stop trying to turn me into you."

"You couldn't be me if you were trying," Gohan replied coolly. "You can't do anything. I'm surprised you can even read."

The energy in the room had escalated until Reinyn was beginning to glow. Gohan locked his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest. "And if you blow up my bedroom again, we won't train for a month, just literature and math and languages." With that he left the room, obviously at the edge of his own temper.

Reinyn continued to glare at the empty doorway, but his energy faded back a degree and then extinguished altogether. He sat in front of the workbook and stared at the simple calculations that Gohan had asked of him, but he didn't know how to begin. And he couldn't just ask Gohan to explain them. He'd rather die than admit that he didn't understand.

It wasn't Gohan who returned to the bedroom. Chichi entered, with her knowing, gentle eyes. "Gohan is going to study in the kitchen for a while." She cocked her head to the side. "I hear you're working on long division today. Did he give you an example or just hand over the workbook?"

Reinyn didn't say anything. He just stared at the workbook and its impossible problems. He hadn't spoken to Chichi, not since the first night after he returned. Since he learned of his own mother's betrayal, her abandonment, he had no use for Chichi. Any emotion this woman played at was not to be trusted. Gohan would probably go through his whole life convinced that this woman really loved him, but Reinyn knew what her love was made of. She was a liar.

"How about we work the first couple together?" Chichi offered. She sat down next to Reinyn and gazed down at the math. "272 divided by 34, here's where you start." She quietly worked the problem, moving her pencil across the page.

Reinyn couldn't help himself, he watched her hand move across the lined paper making neat, feminine rows of numbers. Her hand was small and pale, a human hand. The bones would be delicate like matchsticks. This world didn't have enough gravity to make a human strong. Just looking at her, he could sense how completely fragile she was. She had barely enough fighting aura to tickle his senses with its existence.

Faced with Chichi's weakness, Gohan felt a wave of guilt. Maybe it was wrong of him to blame his mother for not coming for him. She was too weak to have stood a chance against a planet of Saijens. But his father, why hadn't Goku at least tried to come for him? Why had he stayed home and continued his family as though his first son didn't matter? Not for the first time, Reinyn was tempted to ask this Chichi to explain his own parents to him. But how could he expected her to understand his mother or father. It wasn't like Gohan understood him and they were supposed to be the same person. Two people could not be any more different than he and Gohan. The two Chichi's wouldn't understand each other either. Would they?

"Why don't you try the next one," Chichi said. She pushed the workbook back toward him and smiled encouragingly. Reinyn didn't speak, but he attempted the problem, and when Chichi applauded, he knew he'd gotten it right. "You can ask for help..."

Reinyn frowned darkly, speaking to Chichi for the first time in weeks. "I don't need your help, yours or Gohan's."

She didn't seem ruffled by his outburst. Chichi just nodded and headed back to the kitchen. "Gohan promised to train with you when you finish. Hurry up or you won't get done before dark."

* * *

Piccolo watched Gohan and Reinyn spar from a comfortable vantage point above the trees. As time passed, it became harder to tell the two of them apart when they were fighting. Reinyn's technique had begun to refine, though he maintained a killer ruthlessness that set him apart from Gohan. Piccolo watched, still concerned that Reinyn might actually become the better fighter, that the ruthless edge might be enough to overtake Gohan in combat before being on Earth had time to work into Reinyn's system properly, to mellow him and heal him. 

Earth and humanity had an insidious way of tempering the most violent of warriors, making them over into something able to live without destroying. You just had to look at Vegeta or Piccolo himself to see how effectively this planet tamed villains. Hovering over the fighting boys, Piccolo imagined he could already sense a shift in Reinyn's aura, a lightening.

The stars had begun to peek out as the last vestiges of sunlight vanished below the horizon. With a grunt, Piccolo flew down into the fracas, roughly separating the combatants. Gohan had learned quickly, that Reinyn didn't accept simple calls for adjournment. Physical separation was the only fair way to call a fight, and Piccolo did the honor of that nightly.

Both boys were bloodied tonight, and Reinyn was smiling. "I had you," he said with a laugh. "I had you tonight. Things will change when you have to listen to me." With a triumphant smirk, Reinyn turned toward the Son house and dinner, where he knew Gohan would command him to go.

Lingering back with Piccolo, Gohan frowned darkly after his double. "I'm not twisted enough to follow his every rule if he beats me in combat. Just because that's the system he sets for himself, doesn't mean I have to play."

Piccolo grunted, uncomfortably aware that he had gotten Gohan into this situation. "By fighting him and besting him, and holding him to his standards, you've agreed to play by his rules. If he beats you, he'll expect the same consideration he gave, or he will likely try to kill you."

Gohan didn't say anything for a long moment. He didn't accuse Piccolo of getting him into a mess or causing him trouble. He just nodded. "Then I won't lose to him."

* * *

After stuffing a handful of tasty carrots into his mouth, Goten stared across the table at his big brothers. He used to only have one, but then he got another. They were always making faces at each other. He tried to match their expressions as they looked at each other, frowning and dropping his eyebrows. He held the face as long as he could, until Gohan looked at him and burst out laughing. Goten grinned back, a mouthful of masticated carrots rolling down his front. Goten frowned again at Reinyn who hadn't laughed. He stared at him, frowning just as hard as he could, until his other brother's deep frown lightened, and he rolled his eyes. Goten grinned and pounded at the food on his plate making a merry mess. 

Chichi paused in the doorway, watching her boys. Behavior that would normally have her scolding Goten roundly was making Gohan and Reinyn smile. She hadn't seen Reinyn smile before. Now she'd caught a smirk from him and a sneer but this was the first real smile she'd seen. She let Goten wreak a few more moments havoc before popping the door all the way open and settling the main course on the table.

"I swear, you'd let him destroy the house, Gohan," Chichi scolding mildly. "Goten, we eat our dinner. We don't throw it."

"Why?" Goten asked.

Chichi stopped, nonplussed for a moment. He'd been saying mama for weeks and din din and even Gohan. "Why" was a new word. "Because mommy says so."

Goten frowned, not out of imitation this time. "Why?"

Reinyn laughed at this, and started filling his plate with dinner. "Why indeed." After Chichi had left with Goten under her arm for a quick kitchen sink clean up, Reinyn turned to Gohan. "I think I'm ready to challenge you, tomorrow, after we study of course."

Gohan shook his head and sighed. "You'll just lose again. Why waste the effort and get beat up? It's only been a few weeks."

Reinyn ate his dinner enthusiastically and grinned ferally at Gohan. "Why not? I think I'm ready to lead again. I was a good leader, feared, respected, loved even."

Gohan snorted. "I find that hard to believe."

Reinyn's expression darkened further. "You don't think my soldiers loved me?" He remembered their attack on the afterlife, trying to save him, his brothers fighting for him after death. Reinyn smiled. "They loved me, if no one else ever did. I took care of them."

"What do you want then? Do you want to build a new army? Do you want soldiers and wars and people to protect?" Gohan asked curiously. Reinyn had never come so close to explaining who he really was and what he wanted. He was a leader of an army? What kind of army let uneducated, semi-sane children lead them?

Reinyn stopped eating and looked at Gohan. "How can you be me, and not understand me at all?" He shoveled in a couple more mouthfuls of food. "I want to defeat you. That's all you really need to understand." Reinyn headed for the bedroom he shared with Gohan and plopped down on his cot. He closed his eyes, and dreamed of freedom, the freedom of being the strongest in the world and beholden to no one. Piccolo thought Gohan was the strongest being in the world, and Reinyn would defeat him and achieve his security.

Tomorrow.

* * *

Vegeta sat tensely on the edge of Bulma's flower print sofa, watching his son, Trunks. A distressingly human curtain of lavender hair covered his son's head, falling into his eyes. It didn't stand up like a proper Siajen's hair, and it didn't have the rich black color of a Saijen. Vegeta watched critically as his son alternately crawled and toddled around the living room. He could already smell power in him, raw baby energy, unrefined and vague. He wondered if his son would be more Siajen or human. Would he be strong or weak? He had his mother's hair. Maybe he had his father's heart? 

"You should smile at him," Bulma said. She crossed from the kitchen and set a tray of dinner in front of Vegeta. It was a Capsule Corp instant meal, guaranteed to fill up anyone, possibly even a Saijen. She smiled at Trunks. He laughed his baby laugh and toddled toward her. "Come on, a little smile?"

"He'll get enough smiles from his mother," Vegeta said darkly. "What is this?" He stared down at the familiar cubes of instant meal. Unlike Kakarott's human mate, Vegeta had picked a human female that could not cook. The bizarre edible geometric shapes she rehydrated from capsules hardly qualified as a field ration.

Vegeta set the meal aside and watched Bulma coddle his son. If he wasn't careful, she would ruin him, but even on Vegeta, the mother was allowed to keep the children for at least three years of coddling. He would have to restrain the urge to teach his son strength, until it was his turn.

* * *

The next morning, Gohan didn't dive head first into his studies, trying to get everything done he needed to before Reinyn finished his assignment and they had to go train. Instead he faced Reinyn, staring into that distorted sneering mirror. "This challenge nonsense is a hassle. I don't want to have to fight you every four weeks in a serious grudge match for the rest of my life. I propose that we make this an annual event. Whoever wins today, is winner for a year. Then we'll fight again next year, and see if things turn out different. Agreed?" Gohan held out his hand. 

Reinyn frowned. "You seem awfully certain that you're going to win. If I win, you're mine for a year."

"If you win, but you aren't going to." Gohan stood casually until Reinyn shook his hand. Then he headed for the door. "Today we fight before studying. I want this over with"

Gohan and Reinyn didn't usually enter the wilderness for training before early afternoon. Their morning arrival was Piccolo's first clue that everything wasn't running according to plan. Reinyn and Goahn entered their normal clearing. Gohan looked over to Piccolo and offered him a brief smile. "I've been challenged. But Reinyn and I have worked out an agreement so that this doesn't become a weekly battle. Whoever wins, wins for the year, and we can settle things again next year."

Piccolo's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure you want to make that bargain?" He left the obvious question unasked, what if you lose?

"I've lost a year before. It wouldn't be the end of the world," Gohan said with false levity. "What about you, Reinyn. Are you sure you want to make this deal?"

"Sure? I'm ready to start. Same rules as last time?" Reinyn asked with a grin.

"Yeah, go Super Saijen, you lose. Otherwise fight until someone submits." Gohan bowed his head slightly. "Go."

Piccolo groaned when the boys flew at each other. A pair of determined missiles, the boys fought without pause, tackling, punching and kicking their way through the wilderness, both determined to defeat the other. This battle was more even, and much harder to call than their first serious fight. Piccolo could rarely be certain he knew which boy was which in the heat of the fight.

As the battle raged, hour after hour, Piccolo saw that this was going to turn into an endurance test. Neither boy was slipping toward Super Saijen, and Reinyn was compensating for his lack of refinement with his usual brutal, unforgiving attacks. One of the boys dropped from the fight and fell to his knees. Piccolo couldn't tell which had fallen at first, covered in dirt and blood, the boy looked up, a hard grimace on his face. He had two lines carved in his neck. Reinyn was down, Piccolo realized with sickening relief. "Do you yield?" Gohan asked.

Gasping for breath, Reinyn smiled again and tackled him back into the fight, wildlife scattering in their wake.

Piccolo was flying to keep up and he couldn't actually see the fight when the boys' energy began to swell in earnest. Was Reinyn going to break the Super Saijen rule again and lose the fight? Piccolo put on a burst of speed, hoping to witness the final blow.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I have a game I play, where I go to Google and I search "deanine is" from time to time. I inevitably find odd little things that galvanize me into writing things I've let slip to the wayside. Last time I Googled, I found a message board discussion of this abandoned fic.

**Me:** I didn't abandon that fic! -checks last update date- Oh. Well I see how someone might assume...

So...apologies for the wait, and next chapter will be out when it is finished.


	28. Screwed

**Chapter 27 - Screwed**

"You cheated."

Gohan's hair was blond and his eyes blue. He had made the transition to super Saijen. He hadn't had a choice. Reinyn was coming at him, his energy swelling up to the transition. Not defending himself from a blow from his double could be fatal. Reinyn didn't pull punches. But Reinyn didn't transform, and the moment he lured Gohan into the transformation, the battle was over.

"How did I cheat?" Reinyn asked. Controlling his energy on that delicate line had been difficult, but not incredibly so. Gohan assumed that his volatile double lacked that kind of control. Gohan assumed that his double barreling at him, energy escalating rapidly would naturally culminate in a Super Saijen explosion. "I didn't cheat any more than you did the first time we fought. You miscalculated today."

Gohan shifted back to his latent energy state, and watched Reinyn preen. "So, you won. What now? Going to burn my school books or make me sleep in the woods?"

"You're going to train with me until I'm satisfied that I've learned everything I can from you. Then I'm going to defeat you again, soundly. Beyond that, I don't have a plan."

Piccolo came to a halt in the clearing, his eyes wide. He had overheard the conversation following the battle's end though he didn't get to see the final blows. Gohan hit him with a disgusted frown and crossed his arms over his chest. "Reinyn is in charge it seems."

* * *

Heavy with water, the laundry weighed down the clothesline so that Chichi had to be careful to keep her white sheets out of the grass. Crawling about on the ground Goten was tasting the grass. Rather than abandon her laundry half way to scold Goten, she hurried through getting the last items on the line. Chichi spun, prepared to teach another chapter of "we do not stick everything in the world into our mouths" to her youngest.

But her older son that wasn't her son had beaten her to it. Bloody and bruised from his morning fight, Reinyn had turned Goten over and was gently shaking the grass from him. He muttered something in a guttural language that Chichi had never heard and thumped the toddler firmly on the nose. "No," he said in a calmly menacing tone. She half expected Goten to well up and cry but he stared up at Reinyn raptly, unphased by the stern scolding.

Until that moment, Chichi hadn't been able to see Reinyn independent of her son. He was Gohan but hurt, Gohan but different. But he wasn't Gohan. He was Reinyn, who thumped noses and commanded toddlers. Chichi smiled weakly, suddenly queasy to see him here alone. Piccolo was scared of this little boy. Where was Gohan?

"Gohan told you we were fighting this morning?" Reinyn asked.

Chichi nodded mutely, disquiet growing. Gohan explained to her about Reinyn's willingness to follow anyone who could defeat him in combat; he explained that they had come to an agreement so that any battle for dominance between them could be settled annually. So where was Gohan now? The boy who defeated Cell couldn't possibly have been bested in combat...except when one was fighting one's self, anything could happen. "Is Gohan okay?"

"He's fine, but I won. We won't be coming back here any time soon. When he was in charge, he gave me time to train, so I'm going to give him time to study. I came to get his books. You know what he'll need, so pack it for him." Reinyn plopped down on the ground across from Goten and smiled at the little boy that wasn't quite his brother. "I'll watch him, just hurry up."

Chichi bristled, under this little boy's commands. She had no idea what his mother had been doing in the way of discipline, but Saijen boys required a firm hand. You couldn't just back down and let them rule the day. It would make for household chaos. "Maybe you came to an agreement with Gohan. He said he would play by these outlandish rules, but I'm the boss around here, and I want my son home now. He's been dragged around by necessity and destiny and obligation for his whole life. Now is his time to breathe and study and be home. You don't get to take that away from him."

The smile that Reinyn was willing to give Goten faded at Chichi's tirade. He rose fluidly and stalked past her into the house. He snatched a leather satchel out of the closet and began throwing text books into it haphazardly.

"What do you think you're doing?" Chichi asked, maintaining her authoritative tone.

"I offered to let you get him what he would need. Now he's going to get what I happen to pack." Reinyn stuffed a final book into the bag so that it wouldn't quite close.

Chichi stood blocking the door. "I don't think so."

You look like my mother, standing there, proud and defiant, Reinyn choked on the unspoken sentiment. He couldn't forgive his mother and father for having a life and abandoning him. She wasn't any different. Chichi didn't need Gohan any more than his mother had needed him. She would realize that soon enough when he was gone. "Move or I'll move you," Reinyn commanded.

Her chin jutted out defiantly and she squared her shoulders. "I'd like to see you try."

Didn't she realize how completely weak and useless she was? Didn't she realize that standing in his way could get her hurt? Was she out of her mind? Reinyn considered blasting through the wall beside her, but Goten was outside and he didn't want to hurt him. "Why won't you get out of my way?" Reinyn spat, a thin note of pleading in his voice.

"Why do you keep running away? What do you have to prove?" Chichi's expression softened when it became apparent that Reinyn wasn't willing to manhandle her. "Whatever happened in your timeline, this world is different. Why are you fighting so hard? Just let me take care of you. With who you are...I can't help loving you."

Reinyn's jaw tensed and he shook his head. "Liar. I don't believe you really love your son. You don't even know me. I'm not your Gohan, and you're not my mother." With a glance up at the ceiling, Reinyn blasted straight up and outside, leaving Chichi ineffectually blocking the door.

* * *

"He tricked me," Gohan said. "He was building a steady steam of energy, dancing the line right before Super Saijen, and coming at me on the attack. Blocking the blows that were coming was going to be painful, and if he made the transition to Super Saijen, it could have been fatal. I made the shift when I was certain he was going, but he pulled back. I didn't think he had that kind of fine control."

Piccolo grunted and shifted his stance nervously. "You've made your bargain with him and now you're stuck, but it's just a year."

"Just another year," Gohan agreed hollowly. "What if he wants to do crazy illegal things like rob banks and blow up livestock? I can't just go along. But if he turns on me and tries to kill me..."

"I don't think he'll put you in that position."

"You don't think he will?" Gohan paced in the clearing where he'd officially lost his freedom for a year. "What if he does?"

"We'll cross that bridge when it presents itself," Piccolo replied.

"Don't you think we should have a plan? I can't just kill him, but I don't think he'd have the same issues with killing me." Gohan stared into the thick trees, thinking about how hard it had been to kill Cell, what that act had cost him.

"We might need to involve Vegeta," Piccolo said slowly. "He might defer to him on principle"

"Why?"

* * *

Goten strapped securely to her back along with a pack of supplies, Chichi locked the door to her home securely, not even worried about the hurried patch job she'd put in the ceiling to keep the worst of the weather out. All her worry was firmly fixed on her oldest son. Reinyn was proving to be a handful. He'd kidnapped Gohan, practically...and busted her phone with his impolite exit.

There were many things she was willing to suffer from Reinyn in the interest of helping him. She wasn't willing to sacrifice Gohan or his chance at a childhood. He had earned his break, and if she had to rally every fighter on Earth to convince Reinyn to calm down and let things go back to the way they should be, then so be it.

Taking long smooth strides, she headed down the trail that would lead her to civilization and eventually to her father's door.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Reinyn has an internal conflict that he can't see in himself. Can you see it? He scorns Gohan and his family, declares Chichi a liar who couldn't possibly even love her own son. Beneath the bluster is this certainty: His parents abandoned him. Parents don't abandon loved children. Chichi is his mother in every way. How could she love him any better than his own mother did?

At the same time, he wants her to love him. He wants it with everything in him. Will he ever be able to accept love from Chichi though? I'm not sure. To accept love from Chichi, wouldn't he have to forgive his own mother first?

I never know quite where I'm going with this fic.

/randomish thoughts

Apologies on such a short chapter.


	29. Gossip

**Chapter 28 - Gossip**

Gohan stood quietly with his arms crossed over his chest and stewed in his frustration. Another year lost, and this time it all hardly made sense. Reinyn was a mystery and his own mentor, Piccolo, refused to fill Gohan in on what he knew. "I understand that you were being honorable by not telling me everything that Reinyn confided in you, but I need to know what I'm dealing with. I need to know why he's doing this and what he wants from me. You think he might defer to Vegeta, why?"

Torn by his two students' needs, Piccolo frowned darkly. Gohan had every right to know what he was mired in and who now had hold of the reins of his life, but betraying Reinyn's confidence could undo much of the ground he had gained with the child. He was far more accustomed to betrayal and abandonment from adults than honor or reliability. With a resigned sigh, he decided to split the middle and reveal enough that Gohan would better understand but without any gory details. "Reinyn was raised by Siajens. Vegeta was his prince."

"I suspected something like that," Gohan said. "It explains a lot, except that I can't imagine how his timeline shifted to make that possible, unless he was raised by Vegeta himself. Options have been limited in the Saijen gene pool since before I was born." With a sudden smile, Gohan gestured vaguely east where Bulma and Vegeta made their home on the other side of the wilderness. "We should really set up a reunion. I bet he misses the man who raised him."

"Do you really think anyone raised by Vegeta would fight like Reinyn? His opening assaults on this world were brutal and powerful, but without focus or technique." Piccolo shook his head. "The planet Vegeta was never destroyed in Reinyn's timeline. Instead of a handful of Saijens, there was a world of them. Reinyn was just one more hybrid, largely unwanted and uncultivated. Everything he learned, he learned from surviving his life, day in and day out."

"Shut. Up." Reinyn slipped soundlessly from the shadows. "It's foolish to ever assume you're alone." He stared coldly at Piccolo, angry beyond words that he might have told Gohan everything about his past. The lily-white hero did not get to know the things Reinyn had done. He had no right to that information. That Piccolo would share the confession that had flowed out of him like a sick river that one weak night, wasn't really a surprise. He would simply have to exert some sincere authority over the green bastard to shut him up. "We're going to fight, Piccolo, and then you are going to swear never to speak about my past again, understood?"

"There's no need to fight," Piccolo said. "I will concede the contest."

"There is a need." Reinyn shifted smoothly to super Saijen. "Pain teaches lessons that concessions never will."

Gohan moved to step into the fight, but Piccolo raised a hand and shook his head tersely. "This is between me and Reinyn. I betrayed his trust."

"Don't worry." Reinyn tossed the haphazardly packed bag of school supplies at Gohan's feet. "You should study while you have a moment. You may not have another moment for a long time."

* * *

Chichi sipped the cup of tea her father had brought her. Its warmth steamed into her face and chased the chill out of her bones. Chichi settled her cup on the table, an unfinished white pine surface that scented the entire room. "The new place looks nice," Chichi said. It was little more than a hut, but her father had built it with his own hands and it fit him.

Goten was determinedly chewing on one of the unfinished chair legs. Chichi snatched him up and settled him in her lap before he got a splinter in his tongue.

"Thank you. It was a nice surprise seeing you and Goten. I wish you'd brought Gohan along too." Ox took the seat across from his daughter and raised a much larger mug.

"I would have," Chichi said. "But this isn't a pleasure call. I'm having some trouble with Gohan."

"Trouble?" Ox frowned and set his cup down. "Gohan is a good boy...is it Goku? He misses his father. I could come and stay for a few days if you thought it would help."

"It's so complicated that it's going to take me all night to explain." Chichi took comfort in her father's touch when he covered her comparatively tiny fist with his calloused, fighter's hand. "Gohan isn't exactly the problem; it's the other Gohan who calls himself Reinyn"

* * *

Orange flames from a roaring fire, cast more shadows than it did light into their campsite in the wilderness. Gohan stared across the flames at the travesty of a human being wearing his face. Any hope he had toyed with that Reinyn might be redeemable died a few short hours ago, when he quietly punished Piccolo with his fists until the Namekian was bruised and broken and prostrate at his feet. Piccolo was the man who had comforted Reinyn and tried to help him.

Gohan had a hard time steeling himself to deliver such attacks to brutal enemies, much less a friend and mentor. Would he be like Reinyn if he had been raised by Saijens? Gohan shivered and tried not to think about it that way. It was easier to think of Reinyn as someone else entirely, someone who happened to wear his face.

"You didn't have to fight him." The play of shadows on Reinyn's face fed into Gohan's desire to imagine him as someone else entirely, and he felt better. "Piccolo hasn't done anything but try to help you."

"He'll recover." Reinyn plucked a wild hare from the flames and began to gnaw at the charred meat. "You should eat. You'll need your strength tomorrow."

"Why are you doing this?" Gohan made no move to take the hare Reinyn had spitted for him. The thought of food nauseated him. "This isn't Vegeta and you don't have to keep pretending you're a Saijen. The whole Saijen culture is all but dead. The only real Saijen left is Vegeta, and he married a human. The last Saijens have been swallowed up by humanity, and humanity is all that will be left in a few generations."

"You talk too much. I could go for days without talking in Diasheru. Sleep, eat, fight, fight, fight...life was simplified to the barest essentials. People didn't complicate things by talking about the past."

"Or talking at all, apparently," Gohan snapped. "It must be a terrible adjustment from a place where you were barely required to grunt to a world where most of the population manages to negotiate their lives with their words and not their fists. I guess I can see why you might retreat into the wilderness and try to reinvent the rules that made sense to you. If you want to grunt at the t-rex herd for the rest of your life, fine, maybe I'm prepared to let you. Why don't you just release me from my obligation and we can go our separate ways?"

Reinyn leaned closer to the flames, a bitter sneer plastered on his face. "You really think you'd be able let me live in your backyard without supervision? You really trust me so much? I don't believe you."

No, Gohan didn't trust the sociopath out of his sight. Who knew what he might do? "I can't spend the rest of my life watching over you." _God knows how I'm going to deal with you long term._

"Yeah, I know. You have books to read and problems to solve," Reinyn said. "You could always kill me. You're strong enough and skilled enough. I couldn't stop you if you quit toying at your battles and decided to handle me the simple way."

"Killing is never simple, even when it should be." Gohan turned his back to the flames and hunkered down to try and sleep, though all he saw when he closed his eyes was Piccolo's beaten form. At least pretending to sleep kept him from having to look at Reinyn. Gohan squeezed his eyes shut while his mind raced in circles trying to figure how in the world to handle his double.

_Dying is much simpler than killing_, Reinyn agreed silently. Was he trying to bait Gohan into killing him? This didn't feel like the self-destructive depression that had gripped him before his last trip to the afterlife. He pounded Gohan's mentor into a pulp, and literally invited the little hero to kill him. But Gohan would never do it.

He wasn't a killer.

The hate-tinged envy that realization first inspired in Reinyn didn't blossom today. While Gohan stewed, restless and worried, Reinyn laid back and slipped off to sleep. All in all, things were under control.

* * *

Ox listened to his daughter explain the improbable situation that had brought another teenage Saijen into her household. He gave her his understanding ear and silent support until the narrative ran its course.

"So, he made off with Gohan into the wilderness and I need to get help to make them both come home," Chichi said. "I'm not strong enough to do it on my own."

Stroking her hand, Ox shook his head slowly. "If he is anywhere near as powerful as Gohan, you are the only one strong enough to bring them home."

"I know." Chichi closed her eyes and nodded. There was a reason she went to her father and not to Roshi and Krillin or Bulma and Vegeta. She knew that more muscle and fighting would never fix the problem with Reinyn. "I don't think he can fight me. Something happened between him and his mother, but I think if I corner him, I can make him listen. I don't want to bring Goten with me though."

"I can baby-sit," Ox offered, "or I could come with you?"

"No dad, if you could stay with Goten until I make it back that would be ideal." Chichi squeezed Goten tighter in her lap. He giggled, tugged on her ear, and planted a slobbery kiss on her cheek. "I know it's short notice, and this could take a few days."

"It's no trouble at all. But I want you to bring Gohan by on your way home, and Reinyn too. If I have a new grandson, I'd like to meet him."

"If I can convince him to come home and join the family, we will." Chichi didn't let herself think about what they were going to do if she couldn't talk some sense into him.

* * *

Vegeta periodically took stock of the energy in the world around him, the fighters of note and their resting auras. Though the one aura he always sought, Kakarrot's, was now forever absent, he looked anyway, hopeful that the buffoon might have been resurrected, giving him his chance for another rematch, but as usual he was disappointed. As he casually flicked through the usual auras, he lingered over the taste of Piccolo's glow, much lower than usual. It tasted bloody, weak. The Namekian had been in a battle.

Vegeta scanned again, this time looking for anything new that might have successfully bested the green warrior. With Cell so recently vanquished, the prospect of a new enemy only excited Vegeta. This time the glory would be his. Not one of Kakrrot's offspring. But a foreign energy signature eluded him. He had slipped over Gohan's aura twice before he noted the twinning. Where there should only have been one crisp white aura there were two nearly identical ones. Vegeta's normal frown deepened, and he slipped over the balcony.

This bore investigating.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I want to finish this story. Unfortunately I've strayed far from the fandom and some of the finer details are no longer with me. For instance, I strongly feel that Ox might have been living with Roshi's crew at this time, but I really can't remember so I wrote him a hut in the wilderness and I'm fully ready to be blasted for screwing up canon here.

Also, my friend, who's taste I trust implicitly, recently told me that I was writing melodrama...


	30. Visiting Royalty

**Chapter 29 – Visiting Royalty**

Gohan spent his first night back in the wilderness staring at the stars. Unlike Reinyn who snored the night away, Gohan hadn't been able to put his worried brain into idle. His mom was going to be frantic. What if Reinyn had hurt her when he went to get Gohan's school supplies? He might have. He was capable of hurting Piccolo and by extension no one was immune, not ChiChi and not Goten.

Before he had worked himself into a frenzy over what could have happened. The sun colored the horizon with its first golden streaks, and Reinyn's snores vanished. Would he be getting a lesson in the simple life Reinyn-style? Would he even speak or would they just fight?

"If you weren't going to sleep, you could have prepared breakfast. You're going to be useless training," Reinyn grumbled.

"You slept well." Gohan shook his head, torn between wanting to ask Reinyn if he had hurt his mother, and knowing that the question alone would give his double another weapon to use against him. "Was my mom okay when you picked up my books? Did you tell her that I was okay?"

"I told your mother that you survived and that your year was spoken for." Reinyn rolled to his feet and stretched. "Rebuild the fire, be quick, and study if you have time. I'm going to hunt some breakfast. Then we train until sunset."

Reading between the lines of Reinyn's answer, Gohan decided that Chichi was probably fine if a bit frantic right now. He gathered dried wood from forest floor, picking the best sizes for his purpose. The mentors in his life, his father, Piccolo, his mother, they all built a fire their own way. Dad's fire was the quickest laid, and that was the one he intended to build today. He could honor his mother by studying in the time he had, until he figured something out, something more acceptable.

He almost didn't realize he was being watched. Vegeta exuded no aura and he made no noise, but the wind shifted and Saijen's had an excellent sense of smell. Gohan spun toward the foreign aroma, instantly recognizing the smell of a man (if not which man) in the trees. "Who's there?" Gohan asked. "Reinyn?"

Vegeta moved out of the shadows, allowing his aura to proceed him. "Why are there two of you?"

"Hi Vegeta. I don't think I've ever been this happy to see you. There's someone I'd like you to meet. His name is Reinyn," Gohan said. Piccolo rather thought that Reinyn might defer to Vegeta and that would make everything easier. Granted, Vegeta wouldn't be his first choice, but he was relatively tame these days.

"Reinyn is the other you?" Vegeta asked, not to be diverted from his goal. "You have two independent, identical fighting auras."

"They're not identical, if you look closely," Gohan snapped defensively. "Reinyn is from a collapsed alternate reality, and he comes equipped with a few challenges. He operates on system that I can only describe as...Saijen. Strongest is in charge, period. I beat him once. He tricked me and beat me the second time, and here we are. I'm obligated to do as he says since I agreed to play by his rules."

Vegeta's lips quirked into a hint of a smile. A collapsed timeline? Any timeline that produced a more Saijen version of Gohan had to be an improvement over the current situation. The warrior who beat Cell...sickened him with his weakness at virtually every encounter. He was worse than his father, too human and growing more soft and weak by the day. "You think Reinyn is looking for his prince? Are you asking me to play his game and take charge for you?"

"As if you could--I don't have a prince. I lived under the rule of Diasheru. As far as princes were concerned, we didn't exist." Reinyn emerged from the woods and stepped between Gohan and Vegeta. "He's mine. You need something, you talk to me."

_How completely barbaric?_ Gohan groaned just audibly. It was too much to hope that the psycho wouldn't notice Vegeta's unencumbered aura until they could properly discuss the situation.

"Diasheru." Vegeta frowned at the marks carved in the shaggier version of Gohan. He wore the correct trophies to support his claim. "Diasheru is for the weak. Why were you sent?"

"Diasheru is for the weak and for the children of traitors. My father qualified me with his defiance and left me there, to rot."

Vegeta's smile twisted and grew. A Gohan with no love for his father either? "You seem to have Gohan under control. Your influence can only be good for him. He is unacceptably weak. He could barely summon the will to kill an enemy that threatened his life and the life of his world."

"Cell? I heard about Cell. Funny, I also heard you couldn't summon the raw energy to defeat Cell. Who's worse off, the warrior without the will to kill or the one without the power to?" Reinyn relished the rage in the Prince's aura and expression. _Wanna fight?_

A laughed rolled free from Vegeta's throat, a disturbing, angry cackle. "You, unlike your twin there, I could make a warrior of. If you decide you'd like a proper master, my aura should be direction enough. You're wasting your time with Gohan if you're trying to toughen him. At his core, he isn't Saijen. He was ruined young, coddling."

"Okay, both of you, stop talking about me like I'm not here." Gohan stepped out from behind Reinyn. "You aren't leaving, are you, Vegeta?"

"Yes, I'm leaving." Vegeta stepped closer to Gohan and whispered loud enough that Reinyn was bound to hear him. "If you hadn't realized, you stopped existing by the rules of Diasheru when Reinyn here defeated you. Pay attention to your situation or you may get killed. This one, doesn't lack the will."

Gohan stood staring after Vegeta for several long moments after he vanished behind the tree line. "I can't believe the two of you didn't fight," Gohan said. "You practically told him he was a weakling."

Reinyn laughed. "He might have been afraid that a Diasheru half-breed might use Diasheru tactics on him. Maybe he could take me one on one; I don't concede that contest by any means, but his odds of beating us both at once? Minimal."

"Two on one? That isn't honorable." Gohan stared at Reinyn, absolutely horrified.

"Fuck honor! The idiot who tried to make battle honorable, was screwing with the natural order. You unite with your allies, and you kill anyone who might be trying to kill you, and if you survive, you win. When you were telling your heartbreaking story of honor and sacrifice about dealing with Cell, I hated it. If you could have swallowed your honor long enough to swarm the bastard, maybe your _wonderful_ dad wouldn't be dead."

"If we hadn't played by Cell's rules, he might have turned the battle on the Earth and ended things that way." Gohan felt a familiar lump rise in his throat at his weakness in that moment, weakness that Vegeta still railed about. "My dad didn't have to die, but it wasn't honor that cost him. It was me."

"Are you going to cry?" Reinyn asked, suddenly more angry than he could stand at Gohan and his self-destructive conscience. Maybe he wasn't a killer, yet, but it was in him. "Would you like to know who the first person I killed was? I'd tell you his name, but I don't know it. He was a hybrid, like me, undersized and of no value to any of the Saijens running things. It was kill or be killed, and I killed. I learned that lesson young. When it's kill or be killed you kill, cause who the Hell wants to die. You learned it facing Cell. Stop whining about it and own it. Allow that you'd do it again, and stop trying to wall it off in your mind like it isn't part of who you are. I know you, and you might _cry_ about it, but you'd do it again. Trust me."

The muscles in his jaw tightened, and Gohan shook his head. "We aren't the same. You don't know me."

"Forget breakfast, and forget talking. I want to fight. If you talk again before I give you leave, I swear, I'll let you prove that you'd kill again because I will do my best to kill you." Reinyn pounded his fist into his palm with a loud crack. "Fight!"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Short short chapter, and no blows...Everyone that wanted a blow by blow battle involving Vegeta and a wonder twin, apologies. It wasn't in the cards. Oh, and I'm back for awhile, hope to get some chapters cranked out not just in this fandom, but lots of places. This is my 4th posting in a week. Woot! Yes, I am cheering myself on. The odds of anyone still reading after this kind of wait requires that I cheer myself on.

Of course I have no idea where I'm going with the next chapter. To Chichi or not to Chichi? I suppose we shall see.


	31. Choices

**Chapter 30 – Choices**

The days of silence that followed Vegeta's visit afforded Gohan and his double a chance to ruminate. Gohan took Reinyn's command seriously and did not speak, nor was he spoke to. The days' rituals didn't require oral communication. They slept, they fought, and twice a day, they ate. Gohan watched Reinyn during the silence, waiting for something to change, for inspiration to strike and reveal some magic answer to the problem of his evil twin.

But no inspiration came.

And Reinyn was getting stronger.

Day after day, he was training and toughening his problem. What if he couldn't beat Reinyn after his year of servitude? Leveling the playing field wasn't in his best interest. What could he do about it though? He could just stop playing, stop taking it, and go home. Would Reinyn really try to kill him to punish insubordination?

After what happened to Piccolo, he couldn't see testing the theory. Reinyn was capable of brutal violence, and if he broke their pact, that violence would be directed at him. Reinyn seemed to think Gohan would rise to the occasion if really challenged on a kill or be killed level, but he hadn't historically—if his dad hadn't stepped in and pumped him up with grief, Cell would have killed him.

Gnawing the last bit of flesh from a rib bone, Reinyn stood, signaling the end of breakfast. Gohan rose, already on his guard. He couldn't count on a polite warning that the battle was on, but Reinyn didn't attack or make any signal that they were beginning. Instead he pointed into the trees. "Do you hear that?"

After so many days of silence it was an inconspicuous return to conversation. Now that Reinyn had pointed it out, Gohan did hear something. Twanging chords? A guitar maybe? "What is a musician doing all the way out here?"

"I want to sneak up, to listen." Reinyn slipped into the trees, moving from trunk to trunk without disturbing a leaf or making a whisper of a sound. Gohan followed in his wake nervously. Someone new had stumbled into his problem. What if Reinyn wanted to hurt them or rob them? He wouldn't be able to just stand back and let it happen. Gohan felt his heart speed, anticipating the confrontation he had been contemplating for days.

Would this break the status quo then?

They found the source of the off key notes camped in a clearing. An old man strummed at a battered acoustic guitar. His bushy white eyebrows pulled together into a single line as he frowned and twisted the tuning knobs. Satisfied, a smile perked onto his chapped lips. The sounds echoing out of the clearing strengthened, shifted, and the old man began to hum along. Then he started to sing with in a gruff, grizzled tenor. Gohan didn't know the language. He thought it might be Romanian. What was Reinyn planning for this old man? Gohan gazed apprehensively at his double and blinked rapidly, certain that his eyes were deceiving him.

Reinyn, the killer, was crying.

They stayed like that all morning, the old man singing, Reinyn listening, and Gohan staring between the two of them. He had finally managed to pigeonhole Reinyn in his head as a violent, sociopathic enemy. He didn't need these tears to confused matters. If Reinyn could be moved to tears by something as simple as a song, maybe he was a little human under it all? If he was human then Gohan was obligated to try and help him. The situation was so much simpler if he could just think of Reinyn as an unredeemable menace.

When the old man put away his guitar and broke camp, Gohan almost thought Reinyn would continue to follow him, but he didn't. "Why don't you study today," Reinyn said. "We'll train tomorrow."

He had been dismissed, and an entire afternoon for studying was beyond generous from Reinyn. But Gohan couldn't ignore what had happened, what he had seen. "You knew that song?"

"I had never heard it before." Reinyn wiped the moisture that lingered on his cheeks. He stared down the path the old man had taken. "Don't you want to study?"

_I'd rather talk about what happened here this morning._ "Not so much right now."

"Unfortunately, I don't want to train," Reinyn said with a wry smile. "Do you know anything about music?"

"A bit." Gohan nodded, nervous that anything he said might turn Reinyn off and make him stop talking. Talking was good. Talking might teach Gohan something useful, something about what touched the humanity in this other him.

"More than me, I'm sure." Reinyn covered the slashes on his neck with his hand and closed his eyes. "Do you like music, Gohan?"

Who was this talkative music enthusiast and what had he done with Reinyn? "I guess. I mean, listening to it is okay. Mom wanted me to learn the piano, but I didn't take to it very well."

"Saijens don't do music," Reinyn declared. "And we are Saijens."

"Half-Saijens." Gohan tentatively tried to prod the conversation forward. "Do you like music, Reinyn?"

He actually smiled at that question, but didn't deign to answer. "Go study while you have the chance. Free afternoons won't be coming your way often."

As much as Gohan wanted to continue the conversation, he knew better than to push. If he annoyed him enough, Reinyn would just end up brawling with him and the afternoon would be lost. "Thanks for the time," Gohan said at last.

* * *

The invitation came in a crisp white formal envelope. Her name and address were handwritten in perfectly precise feminine script. Bulma unfolded the cardstock and ran her fingers over the embossed gold lettering. 

_Number 18 and Krillin cordially request your presence at their wedding to be held at Kami House, at noon, on the 13th of September. Please RSVP._

_Thanks,_

_Number 18_

_Krillin_

Bulma grinned and clipped the invitation to the refrigerator with a banana magnet. What was she going to wear? She stood contemplating the dresses in her closet and worrying over the ten pounds of post-partem baby weight that she had yet to shed. No eating and more running until September, then she could wear the navy blue dress with no shame. The navy blue would look perfect next to Vegeta if she could get him into a suit and to the wedding.

How best to ambush your Saijen husband into a formal event? Bulma chewed her bottom lip and considered the busted gravity chamber out back. Bribery was probably her best bet. But she couldn't afford to have the thing fixed before the wedding or she'd lose her leverage.

"Where is my son?"

Bulma jumped and turned. Vegeta had returned, flown right through the window without making a sound. "He's with his grandmother, feeding the ducks. Where have you been?"

"I've been observing the difference between coddling and raising a child." Vegeta grinned a bit too widely for Bulma's comfort. "I won't have my son ruined. He shouldn't be feeding water fowl at his age. Hunting them, maybe, but not feeding them."

"He's a toddler," Bulma said scathingly. "And he's my son too. I won't have him treated like a war machine in training. What set you off on this tangent today?"

"Tangent? I've been telling you all along that I wouldn't let you ruin him, not like Kakarot allowed his mate to ruin their offspring. If you could have seen what I saw today, the difference a proper childhood can make, you might understand my fervor."

"You've been in a fight today, haven't you? Did you hurt anyone?" Bulma asked. "Vegeta, you didn't pick a fight with Piccolo or Gohan or anyone?" He really wasn't scuffed up enough to have been in a serious fight, but battles usually set him off on these mad tares. "Well?"

"No battle," Vegeta assured, "but there could have been one quite easily. I met the most interesting boy today by the name of Reinyn, another real Saijen." Though it was a testament to his own altered humanized-psyche, Vegeta took comfort in the persistence of his race and its way of life in the other Gohan. He yearned to make another shrine to Saijen pride out of his own son.

"Another Saijen?" Bulma's eyes widened. New Saijens only ever meant one thing, trouble. "What does he want? You just let him be?"

"For now." Vegeta smirked. "There will be plenty of time to educate him on who the Prince of Saijens is."

* * *

The simple music from the morning lingered in the clearing the old man had vacated long after he was gone. It echoed in Reinyn's mind, incessantly stirring memories best forgotten. He should have just fought with Gohan and let his mind numb itself with the vacancy of battle. But he sat cross-legged, eyes closed, and listened to an Earth song that twisted into another stronger melody in his memory. 

The site of his second war in Diasheru had been on a world named Biren. Unlike his first campaign, the second had been fought against humanoids, an advanced civilization. Sure they looked like humans and they never did anything to him, but they had to die. It wasn't personal. Reinyn had a whole passel of children whose lives he had taken responsibility for and that meant killing the people of Biren as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Exterminating the race had to be clinical, detached. If you let yourself look into your enemy's eyes and see the desperation of people fighting for their families and their world, your duty would drive you mad. So Reinyn did not look and he did not listen.

Despite his resolve, he began to hear something as their battles on Biren wore on. The hills and rivers ran red with the blood of men and women and children, and the air filled with a song, a keening death dirge for all that had been lost and the promise of death assured to come. Reinyn realized that the alien fighters were singing it, the civilians, everyone, even the trees and grass echoed the harmony of grief.

The world sang as the Saijens killed. With each death, Reinyn felt the song growing stronger until it clanged in his brain and rang in his bones. By the time they finally found the source, Reinyn hadn't slept in nearly four days. It didn't seem to be bothering the others, but he could hardly bear the sound.

A silver tower, a tuning fork driven to the core of the world, sang its tireless song.

The battle had run over the tower, around it, but not into the edifice. An energy barrier rebuffed the hybrids that tried to enter. Reinyn ignored their failures and flew at the door, determined to end the clamoring in his head. Unlike the other children, the barrier didn't balk at his entrance. His sense of relief was short lived though.

The song had oppressed him from the battlefield, barred him from sleep, and worn his nerves to a frayed edge, but inside the tower, the music crushed him, paralyzed him. He writhed helplessly on the floor, unable to bear the sheer volume, the pain of it all.

When silence came, it was such a relief, that Reinyn lay flaccid, too drained to consider rising.

"Fota fluit de con."

The woman's voice was nonsensical, but Reinyn knew it from the song. She was the source of the music. She had tormented him with her world's death and now he had to finish her before she crushed him again. He had to move.

Why couldn't he move?

He felt her hands on his chest and warmth bloomed there. Words that had not made sense a moment ago, suddenly did. She was speaking into his mind. "You heard our music. How wasteful that it sings to your unworthy ear. God is cruel. In this moment when all is lost and dying, you come, blood caked on your hands and **you** hear. What should I do little killer?" Reinyn felt the warmth spreading in his mind, and he was suddenly reliving his memories in a terrible agonizing crush.

The hands remained on his chest even as the warmth receded. "Not without honor or soul, but hopeless and mired. Better to let it die that burden it with you, better to let it die than dirty it."

Reinyn didn't understand what was happening, what she wanted from him. He opened his eyes and for the first time since landing on Biren, he looked at an inhabitant. Warm, brown eyes, too much like a human's, stared down at him. She was orange with dramatic plaits of red hair, this woman who held him immobilized. In an alien way, she was beautiful. "I am sorry," Reinyn managed. "I take no joy from the song we made you sing."

"Do not apologize to me little killer." The woman cast her eyes upwards, tears falling. "Forgive me ancestors, for what I dare." The woman dug her fingers into his chest painfully. "You hear as I hear, as the Fluoers have heard for millennia without number. Remember our song. Marry it to your own. Live and pass it on. I give it to you now, not as a worthy successor, but as a desperate gamble on life."

The warmth spread once more filling his chest, his head, his arms and legs. Then, along with the digging pressure of her orange fingers, it was gone. Reinyn found his legs and arms more cooperative now, and he rose.

"End me now, little killer," the woman commanded. "The battle for this world is over. None of my kind remain except me and I haven't the heart to sing about death any longer."

Reinyn summoned energy into his hand, hating himself for his role, hating this woman for making him see her, for making her death personal. It wasn't like he had a choice.

She opened her mouth to sing.

And Reinyn flung the energy ball, obliterating her life.

Still on Earth, but emerging from his memories, Reinyn opened his eyes and flexed his fingers, confused by the warmth that hadn't yet faded. Since hearing the old human sing, something had awakened in him, something planted years ago by a dying alien.

And it terrified him.

* * *

**Author's note:**

I'm afraid of the next arc. After all this time and distance, coming back to the fic to try and finish it, I find that some of my confidence in the story is gone. It took a while to get the courage up to post this. Hopefully, I'm not ruining something that was fundamentally sound a million years ago when I knew what I was doing.

On a whimsical note, in my word document, this fic has officially reached 200 pages. I declare this a milestone. Time to dance a bit and embarrass my cat, Ella. She is such a stodgy feline.


	32. Drowning

**Chapter 31 – Drowning  
**

In the Afterlife:

A small screen resting in a tuft of clouds, followed Chichi everywhere she went. The audio was muted and the action playing was rather boring at the moment, two boys bedded down in the wilderness, but Chichi had no intention of losing track of her Gohan ever again. If the afterlife was willing to indulge her voyeurism, she saw no reason not to take them up on it.

The afterlife actually got high marks for being accommodating since finally sending them to their corner of rest. Chichi could close her eyes and will anything and everything she or her family could need into existence. Since they weren't corporeal, need wasn't really the correct word. Goku still wanted to eat, and Chichi liked to feed him. Goten wanted to play with and taste everything in creation.

"Chichi, look what Goten found," Goku called. "We've been digging for worms to go fishing later. Show mom, Goten."

Goten lifted a handful of wiggling worms and grinned at her. Chichi cringed at the dirt on Goten's face and stuck in his teeth. She didn't want to know what Goku had let him get down while she wasn't watching. At least they were afterlife worms. Afterlife worms were probably clean?

Goku's smile faded a bit and he nodded to the screen following her. "How are the Gohans doing? Still arguing all the time?"

"They're still out in the wilderness, but arguing less I'd say. The Chichi in that reality is really dropping the ball. She can't let them take control like this. They should be home, safe and studying." Chichi sighed and shrugged. "There's nothing I can do about it from here."

"Nope, not a thing," Goku agreed. "We have another visitor too." Goku nodded toward a lone kid in a green jumpsuit. A single line was carved in his neck.

Chichi frowned and willed a large spread of food into existence. Once fed, Saijens and hybrid Saijens tended to open up more. Kids like the one lurking over there, generally found their way here looking for Reinyn, the boy her Gohan had become, and through them, Chichi had begun to get to know who that was. "Get Goten ready to eat," Chichi commanded. "I'll greet our guest." She turned to the her Gohan-vision screen and gestured sharply. "Stay. I'll come back for you after the company leaves."

* * *

"Why don't you study this morning," Reinyn said. A taunt bundle of pent up energy, he walked away from the breakfast fire, his meal untouched. Gohan made no move to pick out a textbook. He simply watched his double go, scrutinizing his fighting aura. Once a starburst of white, almost indistinguishable from his own, the color had shifted into a red spectrum and the red was still in flux. People's auras got stronger or weaker; they didn't shift spectrums and they didn't change color. 

Something was very wrong with Reinyn.

Not that Reinyn wanted to talk about it. The last time Gohan tried to broach the topic with him, Reinyn had simply walked away, dampening his aura until it was imperceptible and disappeared for a few days. Gohan, intrepid wilderness survivor, had tried tracking him, but Reinyn hadn't left a trail that he could find. Then he came back, sparred half-heartedly for a few hours and they set up camp.

A few weeks ago he had been hoping for a change in the status quo, something to dull Reinyn's fangs. Now Gohan had his wish, and he just wanted to know what had taken hold of his favorite sociopath and if it was hurting him. Two nights ago Reinyn had stopped sleeping. As of this morning, he wasn't eating. With a Saijen metabolism, not eating was a definite red flag.

Well, Reinyn and his new aura weren't hiding today. Gohan followed him, making no attempt to disguise his pursuit. Reinyn hadn't gone far. He stood motionless in a clearing, his shoulders slumped and his hands balled into fists. "Do you hear that?" Reinyn asked.

Gohan listened carefully, wondering if another wandering musician had found them, but no unusual sounds found him. The wind in the trees and some squabbling squirrels were the loudest of the background noises. Gohan listened harder, searching for what might be bothering Reinyn, but there wasn't anything. "Sorry. The squirrels?"

Reinyn frowned darkly as though Gohan had insulted him. "Yes, the squirrels are driving me mad."

"Something is driving you mad?" Gohan asked. "If you explained what's happening, I could try to help."

"You're going to help me, hero?" Reinyn laughed. "You don't hear it, and that means it isn't there, and that means I'm losing my mind."

"Whatever is happening to you isn't just in your head. Your aura is shifting. This is physical. My friend Bulma, she has quite a few diagnostic toys at her disposal. If you're willing to let her look?"

"A dead alien is enacting her vengeance from beyond the grave, and you think your friend Bulma can help?" Reinyn laughed again, and he lifted his hands to cover his ears. The music of Biren echoed in his head, growing louder and more painful as time passed. He could barely hear Gohan now over the swell of grief song. "Go home, Gohan. Go home."

"I'm not going to leave you like this." Gohan stepped forward to support Reinyn before he could fall to his knees. "We're going to see Bulma."

"No!" Reinyn commanded. "I'm still in charge here, and I am not going anywhere. You understand?"

Gohan contemplated stepping back and letting Reinyn fall to the ground, to see if he would continue to pretend he didn't need help when he obviously couldn't even stand. "I understand, and we'll wait, for now."

* * *

Back in the afterlife: 

The table of food lay in complete shambles, not a crumb left behind. Chichi smiled, knowing that she wouldn't have to clean any more than she'd had to cook. "So Warten, why are you looking for Reinyn?" Chichi asked.

Warten frowned and stared at his hands self-consciously. "I just wanted to see him, make sure he was okay and didn't need me."

"He's still alive, like we explained, so none of us can touch him or talk to him yet." Chichi willed the dirty dishes away. "Can you tell me something about him? I want to know everything."

The boy looked up, his nervous frown shifting into a nervous, small smile. "He was the strongest of us and the weakest. It was weakness in him that made him protect the underpowered children, but as I was one of them, the underpowered, I was glad of it." Warten's smile turned crooked. "He glowed yellow and his hair went all blond when he got angry. He had an orange ball that he kept in his pocket, all wrapped up in a packet of old uniform cloth. He almost never took it out. Some of the guys, me too I guess, we figured it was a religious thing from his mother's planet, but he never told any of us about it."

Chichi grinned and wiped an unshed tear. Warten wasn't the first of Reinyn's soldiers to mention the Dragonball but it always upset her. It had been a terrible mistake putting the Dragonball on Gohan's hat. With that permanently missing Dragonball, they couldn't make wishes. She had composed so many wishes over the years, wishes that would save her son. "The ball was a Dragonball, and his father gave it to him when he was very little. Dragonballs are magical."

"A magical ball." Warten rose abruptly and like the children that had come before, he turned to go. "When he dies, you'll tell him that I came so he knows I didn't forget what he did, what he…was."

"We won't forget to tell him," Goku said.

Chichi settled next to Goku, cuddled in close and rested her head on his shoulder. "You know, if you put away those numbers that the Kais have on him, all the killing nonsense, that has to be exaggerated anyway, our Gohan seems to have done some good. He took care of those other kids. That's honorable."

"He did his best," Goku agreed.

"Human Chichi!" The tall orange alien, Omea, strode through a rift in the afterlife, invading the lush green sanctuary that the Son's lingered in. "Forgive my intrusion." She bowed and dropped to one knee, stiff formal deference. "I require your assistance. Can you, as his mother, reach your son in the living world? I must communicate with him. Now."

"Sorry," Chichi said. "I can watch him, but not speak to him or touch him. Why?"

Omea's orange face flushed darker, turning almost copper. "Because he isn't adapting and at this rate it will consume him, and I want to help."

"What is it? What's happening?" Chichi asked.

"Bah, you want him to die, so you can have him back. Why I thought you might help save him I don't know." Omea growled low and rose. Spotting Chichi's screen, she strode over and stared intently.

Goku squeezed Chichi's shoulder and stepped forward. "If you're going to insult my wife, you aren't welcome in our afterlife. What's wrong with our son? If we can help him, we will."

"Just let it out," Omea commanded futilely, staring at the screen. "Please just live." She turned back to Goku and Chichi. "From here, we can't help. He killed me, and it seems, I've returned the favor."

* * *

Author's Note:

Those of you who are on this journey with me, I appreciate the company, but this is important and it's what I was getting at last chapter in the last author's note, though I don't think I stated it well. (Lord, another sign that I'm slipping.) This story is just a silly fanfic, yet it means a lot to me. I'm not asking for a boost or asking for an ego stroke. I just expect you to tell me if I screw this fic up while trying to finish it. If I screw it up, I will try to fix it rather than continue destroying something I've invested so much in. It's a huge pitfall of writing without a beta. There isn't anyone to point out my serious screw ups, and I'm paranoid about this fic of late. It's on my mind, and I plot it constantly.

This is just me saying that I can handle a negative review, and I would appreciate honestly if I start to go seriously astray.

With love and angsty lollipops,

Bridget


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